Waves Of Emotions
by Curious Girl
Summary: This should be the best time of my life. I have everything I ever wanted: a lovely husband, a beautiful daughter, a happy family. Yet, I feel nothing when I look at my daughter. I don't feel love. I don't even feel joy. I feel nothing. I am empty. Part 4 in the Torn Apart Series!
1. Chapter 1

I stop at the white moses basket that's standing in her room. It was a gift from Shailene for Adaline's birth. It matches the interior perfectly. My fingers wrap around the wood of the crib, my eyes staring at my daughter. She's dressed in pale pink clothes. She's sleeping. Her bright blue eyes are closed, but there's a smile on her lips. She might be farting, yet it looks like a smile. She's just eight days old, but has changed a lot already. Her features start looking more like me than her father. Troy was right, she definitely has my lungs. She can scream loudly when she wants something from her parents. But her voice… her voice has a melody in it when she cries. It's like she's singing while screaming. It's something the others don't hear. But I can hear her voice. And it's beautiful.

 _Flashback_

 _"Why did you need an appointment alone?" Dr. Wyatt asks me as I sit down on her beige couch. I told Troy that I need a few hours for myself and that I'd go to the park to get some fresh air. Five days of being stuck in the house is exhausting. With rarely any sleep._

 _"I am a horrible mother." I say into the psychiatrist's green eyes._

 _She frowns at me, "Your daughter is only five days old. Why would you say that?"_

 _I lean back, "I don't feel anything."_

 _There's worry in her eyes as she knows exactly what I'm telling her. "What do you mean by that?"_

 _I shrug, "That I don't feel anything. When I look at her… When I look at Adaline… There's nothing inside of me reacting to her. It's like silence in there."_

 _She writes something down, "Maybe it's baby blues. You must be tired from all the feeding, diaper changing, walking around with her..."_

 _I shake my head, "No, it's not baby blues. This is not normal. What I am feeling - or not feeling - is not normal. This is not just because I am tired. Which I am. All the time. And I am short tempered. All the time. But I have Troy who takes care of her as much as he can. He changes her diapers, he feeds her with the milk that I pumped down when I'm not home… She cries and he knows what she wants. He knows that she needs her diaper to be changed or that she's hungry or that she just wants attention… He knows! He's doing so incredibly well with her! And when he looks at her I can see pride and gratitude and love… God, there's so much love in his eyes for her. For his daughter. For our daughter…. And then there's me…" I shrug, "I look at her and I feel nothing. There's complete silence in my emotional department. I don't feel love. I don't even feel gratitude! I feel nothing." I start arguing, "And what kind of mother doesn't feel love when she looks at her daughter?! Tell me what mother feels nothing for her daughter?!" I know the answer. I've turned into Victoria._

 _Dr. Wyatt puts the pen and note block down before reaching out for my hand, "Gabriella, I don't think you should worry so much."_

 _I feel tears building up in my eyes, "I might be able to cry right now, but with her… I can't even cry when she's hurting me by sucking on my nipple. I am nourishing her and it hurts immensely. I feel so much pain… But I don't cry. I can't share a tear in front of her. I can't show any emotion around her - good or bad. What kind of mother does this make me?!"_

 _"What you are feeling is completely normal. It sounds like baby blues to me. It simply means that your hormones are not back in track. This is why you feel like this."_

 _"If only I felt like this towards her!" I argue, "Why the hell can't I feel anything towards my own daughter?! My own flesh and blood? Everyone, really everyone in our family, loves her. Kelsi, Ryan, Miley, Lucas, Diana, Shailene, Troy… they are in awe of her. Madly, deeply in love. I mean, she had them under her spell from the first breath she took. They love her when she cries, they love her when she smiles, they love her when she poops and sleeps… But me… I don't feel anything. Nothing. No love." I pull a tissue out of the box and wipe my eyes. "This is something other than baby blues."_

 _"Eight out of ten mothers have baby blues after giving birth. It's normal to feel the urge to cry all the time and be so short tempered."_

 _I wave my hands in the air, "How long has it to last to be called depression? After ten days? Thirteen? Two weeks? A month?" I ask her back, "I don't think this is just baby blues."_

 _"I suggest you wait for a few more days. Your hormones should be back in place by then. If it doesn't go away, we can talk about it again."_

 _I nod, but that doesn't sound calming. "And what happens if it doesn't go away?"_

 _"We'll see when we get to that point. But I wouldn't worry about it so much. As I said, it's perfectly normal to feel - or not feel in your case - this way. Give it time. You'll develop your relationship with her sooner than you think." she smiles at me._

 _"I've had her inside of me for 42 weeks. I had a relationship with her then! But now… I feel like giving birth, destroyed my relationship to her." I whisper._

 _"What did Troy say to this?" her voice is clear, but her eyes full of pity. It's the first time I see pity in her eyes. Through all we've been through together, everything I told her, today… Today's the first time I see pity in her eyes. Because she can see how much I suffer._

 _I bite my lip, "I haven't mentioned it to him."_

 _"Oh Gabriella…"_

 _"I know, this is like a huge step back in our development but…" I bite my lip, "God, just look at him when we have our first appointment together! He's so freaking in love with her and so full of joy… I don't want to take it away from him. Not until there's something to actually worry about." I still have hope that this is baby blues, but deep inside of me I know that's not the case._

 _"So, you've started to suppress your feelings again." she says, sitting up straight, "Okay, this is what I want you to do. I want you to ask all of your family member to leave Troy, Adaline and you alone. They make you feel pressure and you don't need that right now. You make yourself enough pressure already. I want you to just spent time with your family. With Troy and Adaline."_

 _I nod, "Good. I can do that."_

 _"And I want you to start meditating as well. I know it's helping Troy to deal with his issues as the shooter is still not caught. But I want you to try a different form of mediation. I want you to close your eyes and focus on your breath. On nothing else. Let your thoughts come and go, don't pay attention to them. Don't think about Adaline and how you should feel. Feel… Feel nothing."_

 _I nod again, "I can do that. I can feel nothing. I already am."_

 _End of Flashback_

Give it time. You'll develop your relationship with her sooner than you think. Dr. Wyatt's words are ringing in my ears as I watch Adaline awakening from her sleep. She starts stretching her arms and legs before her eyes flutter open. There are the crystal blue orbs she has from her father. She looks me in the eyes and I wish I'd feel something for her. She doesn't deserve this. She doesn't deserve to be not loved by me. She did nothing wrong.

My daughter starts crying and I pick her up. She's probably hungry. She's been hungry every four hours and it's been four hours since the last time she was fed. I sit down on the rocking chair and free my left breast. My nipples are both sore from the last time I fed her. I didn't think breastfeeding would hurt so much. It's something no one tells you about! Quickly, her lips find my nipple and she starts sucking. Luckily, milk production is not a problem of mine. I am producing enough milk. Maybe even too much for her. Which is why I started pumping so soon. My breasts are just dripping in milk. All the time.

I feel a sharp pain coming from my left nipple. She's sucking really hard and I bite my lip to not wince. I'm nourishing her. I am the best mother I can be right now. Who doesn't feel love, but the least I can do is nourish her and change her diapers. I can take care of her. I will take care of her. She doesn't deserve a mother who doesn't feel. She deserves a loving mother... Her tiny hand reaches out and she catches my forefinger again. She wraps her fingers around mine as she drinks eagerly. I feel tears building in my eyes and I wish it would be out of love, but it's not. It's because of the pain that she's making me feel. It hurts so badly.

Once she's done with one breast, I give her the other. The right nipple doesn't hurt as much. Luckily. Yet, it's enough pain to make my eyes fill with tears again. God, what mother doesn't feel anything towards her baby? Her own flesh and blood?

"Oh hi." I hear my brother's voice saying and I look up. "Hey, are you alright?" he asks me as he walks in.

No one has asked me this question since we left the hospital seven days ago. Not even Troy. They've been all so focused on Adaline and taking care of her… I wipe the tears away and nod. I can't talk to anyone about how I feel - or how I don't feel. No one will understand. No one but Dr. Wyatt.

He knees down across me, his bright blue eyes looking into mine. For the first time, someone focuses on me and not on my daughter, who is still drinking. "You are not alright." he says, tilting his head to the side.

Lying has never been one of my strengths. Sometimes it's a curse, sometimes it's a blessing. I'm not sure which it is right now. "Close the door." I whisper to him.

He rises and closes the door of Adaline's room.

"Is Troy still downstairs?" I ask him, wiping the away more tears. Adaline finishes and I pick her up. I button up my blouse with my free hand and watch Ryan walking over to me.

"Yes. With the others." he says, now worry in his eyes. "Honey, what's wrong?"

I hold Adaline up and wait for her to burp, while rocking in the chair. "I am a horrible mother." it bursts out of me.

"You're not. Why would you say that?" my step brother knees down beside me.

"Because… Because I…" I can't tell him. I can't tell him that I don't feel anything.

"Because of what?" he asks as he hands me a napkin so Adaline won't burp on my blouse.

Shaking my head, I bite my lip. He won't understand. No one will.

He places his hand on my shoulder, "Gabriella, you can tell me."

I open my mouth to answer, but close it as I hear Adaline burping on the napkin. I quickly wipe her mouth with another napkin. Her hands reach out and touch my nose. She smiles at me. She's our daughter. A beautiful, beautiful baby… "I don't love her." I say in one breath before I look at my brother.

His eyes reflect shock and worry before they soften. "No you do."

"No I don't." I emphasize, "In fact, I don't feel anything towards her. No joy, no gratitude, no love… nothing."

There's surprise in his eyes before he bites his lip, "That's probably baby blues. Troy mentioned something like that when we were out."

He talks about me. My husband talks about me. He worries. Yet he hasn't mentioned anything towards me. His attention was on her and not me. I don't blame him. He's head over heels in love with her. I'd be the same. If I felt anything. I shake my head, "This is not baby blues. This is something more serious."  
"Have you talked to anyone about this?"

"I talked to Dr. Wyatt. Three days ago, when I said I'd go out for a walk. I went to visit her." I feel uncomfortable talking about this.

"What did she say? I mean she's the expert."

"She said it would probably be baby blues and if it won't go away in two days then I should visit her again."

"And it didn't go away?"

I shrug, "Nothing changed. I mean, I still take care of her." I start walking through the room to get her back to sleep. "But inside of me it's… there's silence."

"Have you talked to Troy about it?"

I look at him, telling him the answer without words.

"Gabriella, you can't go through this alone." he sighs before rising to his feet again.

"I didn't want him to worry about nothing. I mean, at first I thought it would be just baby blues as well… But deep inside of me I knew that this…"

"That this could be postnatal depression?"

Depression. I feel a shiver going down my spine. It's a word so strong, so cold… I didn't think it would happen to me. "Yes. A postnatal depression. I think… No, I know that this is what I have."

"Okay… Okay, and what now?" he asks me a bit helpless.

I look at the watch hanging across the door in Adaline's room. "I have another appointment with Dr. Wyatt in thirty minutes. I need you as an alibi."

His mouth drops open, "No! I won't help you to lie towards your husband. You should inform him. You should do this with him. Not alone!"

"Ryan…" I brush through my hair as I feel Adaline falling asleep.

"Okay, fine. What we're going to do is go to Dr. Wyatt together." he suggests.

"No. I'm going alone."

"Fine. We'll say we go baby shopping at Harrods. And while I'm actually going to do this, you'll be sitting at Dr. Wyatt. How long does your appointment last?"

"Usually an hour." I say with a smile on my lips. I have the best brother in the world.

"Good." he says as I place Adaline back in her moses basket. "It should be enough time for us to be back in time."

"To be back in time for what?"

"For the others to not notice what the hell is going on." he says, rolling his eyes.

I pull him into a hug, "I love you." I say, feeling gratitude. No one would do that for me. Except for Ryan.

"If only you felt that kind of love towards her." his eyes rest on Adaline, who's fast asleep in her basket.

"I'm working on it." I mumble. I am working on it.

* * *

I let my body fall on the beige couch, which has become my second home now. There's rain clashing against the french windows. Six months ago I didn't think I'd feel so comfortable with a stranger. In a practice. Talking about my emotions. My past. But now… now I feel like this is my only glimpse of help.

"Has anything changed?" Dr. Wyatt's voice is filled with hope. Hope I don't feel.

I shake my head, "No. No improvement."

"But also no degradation." Dr. Wyatt clarifies.

"But I still feel nothing when I look at her. I mean, today I cried when I breastfed her."

"You cried?"

"But not because of me having finally feelings for her. It was because the pain I felt when she was sucking. No one told me that breastfeeding would hurt so much!" I say, brushing through my hair. "You said it would go away in two days. It didn't. What's the next step?" I ask her, knotting my fingers.

"I think you should talk to Troy about this."

I shake my head, "I can't. How am I suppose to tell someone who's head over heels in love with her that I, her mother, feel nothing?"

"Have you told anyone about your condition?"

"I told it Ryan so he can give me an alibi to come here."

"That wasn't a wise choice."

"My family expects me to be perfect and smile all the time. To mirror their joy and double the effect. They expect me to love her not less than they are! But I can't. I mean, I try. I pretend." I say and shrug, "I don't love her."

"What did Ryan say?"

"He was shocked. He didn't believe me at first. Of course he didn't. I don't think anyone would, to be honest."

"What happened after the first shock?"

"He pulled himself together and realized that he can't leave me hanging. I forced him to be my alibi."

"That was a bad idea. Where is he now?"

"Shopping for baby clothes at Harrods. Like we told the others."

"I don't think lying is going to help you. If there's one thing you should have learned from the past, then it's that lying doesn't help. It makes things worse."

I bite my lip, knowing she is right. "Tell me, how can I explain this towards him?"

"Try to catch a moment when you are both alone and Adaline's asleep so she won't interrupt you and therefore give you a reason to chicken out." Dr. Wyatt already knows me better than I know myself. "Ease him into this. Describe how you felt after you gave birth, a day later, six days later and how you feel today. Describe it as detailed as possible. Don't let the bomb drop like you did when you told him you slept with his brother. He might react differently then. Really ease him into this."

I snort, "He won't understand."

"You have to try to know the result."

"And you think this will help? Can't you prescribe me some antidepressant?"

There's a smile on her lips, "Giving you medication won't help if you don't talk about it. I want to clear the problem psychologically before trying to fix it physically. I believe talking about it with your husband - the one who is closest to you - might be all the help you need. Get this topic off of your chest. Talk to him about it. See how he reacts. Maybe you'll be surprised."

* * *

I spit out the toothpaste and rinse my mouth with water. Adaline's fed and asleep. The rest of our family has left us alone after having dinner with us. We cooked together. Adaline and the wedding of Miley and Lucas were the main topics. I felt so bad during dinner, they all chatted happily while all I could do was play with my food. I felt sick even thinking of telling my husband what's going on with me. He won't understand. This is the moment I've been waiting for the whole day. I brush through my curls with my fingers. My hands are already shaking. I don't remember feeling this nervous. God, he's going to freak out. He'll yell. He won't understand. My eyes stop at my wedding rings. Through good times and worse. Guess, we're facing worse times once more. Taking a deep breath, I try to calm down. I can do this. I can tell him.

I walk out of our bathroom and stop as I see him standing in our closet, changing into his pajama pants. He's such a good father. He's the helping hand I need so badly. The partner I can fully rely on. I watch his half naked body turning around. I have such a handsome husband.

"You like what you see?" he says with a smirk on his lips.

Sex. Sex is something that hasn't been on my mind ever since Adaline was born. It's been a while since I thought of it… I try to smile, "I have to talk to you."

His smirk drops and I notice how his body stiffens. Fuck, I already made him worried. I should ease him into this… so far, it's not going great. "Okay… what is it?"

I bite my lip, "I wasn't at Harrods with Ryan today." Dr. Wyatt said I should ease him into this before I drop the bomb. Maybe I should clear my lie out first.

"I know." he says slowly.

I feel a shiver going down my spine, "You do?"

"Yes. Because you hate shopping. You'd never go to Harrods with Ryan. Where were you?" he asks, walking over to me.

"At Dr. Wyatt's practice." I say in a breath as he stops across me. Suddenly, I feel his dominance hemming me in. I can't talk to him when he's so close to me. I take a step back, standing in the bedroom now while he's still in the walk-in closet. That's better.

"At Dr. Wyatt's?" he asks me surprised. He didn't expect that. I watch his body relaxing a bit. Did he think I was betraying him?

"Yes. Did you think I was betraying you?" I ask him shocked.

There's anger flashing up in his eyes as he feels too, that we're going a step back in our development. "No. I thought you went to Unfaithful records. To check on everything."

"Oh." I breathe out, surprised. Of course, I could have thought of that as well. Damn it, now I've made it worse.

"Why were you at Dr. Wyatt's?" his voice is soft as he notices the distance I created between us.

"Because I had an appointment."

"An appointment… without me?"

"Yes."

He is silent and I see his eyes looking in the distance. His brain is processing the information and making a thousand possibilities of why I went to her. Yet none of them are as bad as the truth. "How many have you had?"

"This was my second one." His eyes find mine again, he's catechizing me.

"Why did you lie to me about it?" he asks slowly, taking a step towards my direction. "Visiting Dr. Wyatt is nothing you should be ashamed about."

"I know." I bite my lip and cross my arms in front of me, trying to build a protection shield. "But I don't think you're able to understand."

"What wouldn't I understand?"

"The reason for the appointment." God, this is so hard.

"What's the reason?" he asks me and out of the sudden I feel my body stiffen as well.

"Because…" I look down to my feet. I can't tell him and look him in the eyes. It's humiliating.

"Because of what?" he asks me, his fingertips lifting my chin. "Tell me."

I gulp, feeling tears building my eyes. "Because I don't love our daughter." I breathe out in a whisper. There, I've said it. It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off my chest and at the same time I can feel my heart shattering. There was no easy way to say this, but I didn't think I'd be so shattered afterwards.

"What?" he asks in disbelief. I can see hurt and confusion in his eyes. He doesn't understand. I knew he wouldn't understand. There is shock in his eyes. And fear. A lot of fear.

Shit. Dr. Wyatt said I should ease him into this. Not let the bomb explode without no warning. "I think I am suffering from postnatal depression." I say slowly. I think this is better, softer…

He takes a step back, "Depression?" his voice is a whisper. I can see his mind wandering back to his mother and I see the matching fear in his eyes. He's afraid I'll turn into Diana. He's afraid I'll be a threat to our daughter. He's afraid I'll hurt her. I can see his mind overflowing with thoughts. Please don't go there… don't get caught up in my dark clouds that are hanging above me.

"No, it's not the kind of depression Diana's dealing with." I say quickly, trying to calm him down. I'm turning into Victoria, not Diana. Yet, I don't know what's worse. A mother who tries to kill her child or a mother who doesn't love her child.

"Gabriella, how can you… how could this happen?" he asks, brushing through his hair. He seems helpless. Frustrated. Afraid of the future. The bright future which I destroyed. Again.

I shake my head, "I don't know. First Dr. Wyatt said it could be baby blues…"

"Maybe it is." There's hope in his voice and I hate to demolish it.

I look into his eyes, "When I look at our daughter I feel nothing. I feel no gratitude, no joy, no love. There's nothing inside of me happening. I change her diapers, I breastfeed her, but I feel nothing. No love."

I feel the word antidepressant lingering in the air, echoing in my head as silence embraces us again. "How long have you been feeling this way?" It's a question he forces himself to ask me. It's a question he doesn't really want an answer to. Yet, he has no other choice.

"Since the day she was born." I say in a breath, again feeling weight falling off of my chest.

He nods, before brushing through my hair again. "And why didn't you tell me earlier?"

I feel tears building in my eyes again, "Because you are head over heels in love with her. You're doing such an amazing job with her… You know what she wants and when she wants it… You look at her and I can feel your love for her… I didn't… I didn't want you to worry about it before… before I didn't know what it was that caused this. I didn't want to destroy your happiness."

He tilts his head to the side, his orbs focusing mine. "When will you understand that my happiness depends on yours?" he asks me and I don't think he wants an answer to that. "You should have told me earlier. We could have figured it out together. We're a family. We're all in this together. Your shit is mine, remember?"

I smile and nod, "Yes…" It's a promise we gave each other over a year ago, yet I still seem to struggle with keeping it.

"What's next?" he asks, licking his lips.

I shrug, "I don't know. I have another appointment with Dr. Wyatt in two days."

"Good. We'll go together. All three of us. As a family." he says into my eyes. "We'll get through this together. You have me by your side until my last breath."

He is a miracle. I shatter his world and he already has a plan to built it up again. Nothing can destroy his love for me. Not even my depression. "You are the best husband and father in the world, Troy Bolton." I say, fondling his cheek.

He grabs my hand and kisses my knuckles, "I won't let this depression destroy what I love the most."

I nod, seeing light at the end of the tunnel. "Me neither."

* * *

 **The first chapter of Waves of Emotions! Please review. I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it.**


	2. Chapter 2

I watch my husband putting the baby car seat in the black Porsche Cayenne as I lock the front door. It's the first time we leave the house as a family. It's the first time our daughter drives with us in a car. I didn't want her first trip to be to Dr. Wyatt. A psychiatrist. How life goes.

Krimov has the day off. I didn't want him to be driving us when we are en route as a family for the first time. I want this moment to belong to us as a family, though I am slowly starting to count Krimov as a friend. I'm getting used to him around us. He's a shadow when we need him to be. He can be a helping hand when we need him to. He's doing a very good job.

I walk over to the Porsche with the light leather interior. The dark pink baby car seat looks good in the car, I think as I watch Troy fastening the seatbelt around it. Adaline's sleeping in the car seat, wearing a white body. She looks peaceful; happy even. One of us has to sit next to her on the drive.

"I'll drive." I say, striking my hand out for him to hand me the keys to the Porsche.

He looks at me, understanding my fear right away. Sitting beside her and the chance of her crying… trying to calm her down… I'd rather drive. He reaches into the pocket of his beige trousers before he puts the key into the palm of my hands.

"I'll sit next to her then." there's a bit of disappointment in his voice. He doesn't even try to mask it.

I bite my lip. Maybe on the drive home, I can sit next to her. Maybe if the appointment with Dr. Wyatt goes well, I'm going to have the strength. Maybe…

I close the door for him before I get seated in the driver's seat. Adjusting the seat, the wheel and all the mirrors, I stop as I see my husband with my daughter sitting on the rear bench. His eyes are resting on our daughter. He looks so proud to be her father… he looks so full of love. Love I don't feel.

I turn on the engine and start navigating us through the London traffic. I feel more comfortable sitting behind the wheel than on the rear bench. The London traffic is chaotic and it can get crazy stressful, but that's nothing compared to that rear bench behind me.

* * *

I park the Porsche in front of an old white victorian house that holds Dr. Wyatt's office. It's a side road, which means the traffic is not as bad. I pull the key out of the ignition lock, press the button for the hand break and pull seatbelt out of the cap. I peek into the review mirror, seeing Troy's bright blue orbs. Adaline didn't wince once in the forty minute ride from Richmond to Chelsea. Yet I am all sweaty, but not from riding the Porsche, it was because I was so anxious Adaline would make a move. It's her that's a stress factor for me. But feeling stress is better than feeling nothing.

"We're here." I say to Troy and watch him opening the seatbelt that's surrounding the baby car seat.

I get out of the car and open the door of the rear bench on Adaline's side.I pick up the baby car seat with my daughter still sleeping inside in and watch Troy getting out of the car. He shuts both doors close and I lock the car before handing him the key. He puts the key back into the pocket of his trousers. He's wearing a white oxford shirt and dark pants. It's a rather casual outfit, but him wearing it makes it looks glamourous. I'm wearing black skinny pants, Louboutin heels and a white blouse. My hair is up in a chignon. We look good. We might not feel it, but we embody it.

"Let me carry her." he says and I give him the baby car seat. With his free hand he laces his fingers with mine. "Are you okay?" his question is almost a whisper as we walk the stairs up to the house.

"I am stressed." I answer as we stop in front of the black door. I open it and we get greeted by a soft comfortable scent that's lingering in the whole house. It's a fresh, earthy scent. It smells like the first rain. It's beautiful and helps her patients opening up. The reception area is empty just like the rest of her practice. Usually, Dr. Wyatt's practice is closed on Thursdays. Today's an exception.

I hold the door open for Troy and my daughter. With them behind me, we walk down the hall to her practice. It's the same room we had all of our appointments. There are french windows, showing the garden behind the house. A beautiful garden. The light beige walls, the beige couches, the dark parquet floors, the white bookshelves and fireplace. It looks familiar. Homely.

"Just on time." I hear Dr. Wyatt's voice and turn around as I see her rising from the glass desk. She combined modern furniture with the old fashioned house. She stops in front of me, shaking hands with me. I hear Troy's footsteps behind me. "Oh you brought the whole family." she smiles as she sees my husband and even more when she sees our newest family member. She knees down, her green eyes looking at our sleeping daughter. "So, that's Adaline Elizabeth Grace Bolton. She's a beauty already."

She's clearly a person who likes children. Being a mother of three, she should be. But then again, I am a mother as well. Yet, I fail at my own daughter.

Troy and me sit down on the couch. He places the carseat next to the couch before pulling the cotton blanket over the car seat, so the light doesn't wake her.

"We're a family. We'll get through this as a family." Troy says, getting comfortable on the couch.

"So, Gabriella talked to you." Dr. Wyatt says, picking up a pen and note block. I used to think it's weird she's not using any electronics, but now I like it. She's old schooled. And it has it's advantages when there's no digital form available.

"Yes. Two days ago."

"How did you feel?"

"I thought that after Swansea we'd turned a corner. And maybe we did, but we hit a brick wall anyway." he crosses his legs.

"A brick wall?" I ask him, hurt in my voice. I knew I made a mistake by keeping him in the dark for so long... but a brick wall - that hurts more than I thought.

His eyes meet mine and I can see the worry in his eyes and the guilt he feels. "Yes. Because I don't think we can demolish it so easily. You and me… there were so many sticks and stones in our path. So many obstacles. But this…" his lips form a thin line, "this is the hardest."

"We'll fucking destroy this brick wall." I mumble.

He nods, "It's why we're here."

"How are you feeling, Gabriella?" she says, putting the focus on me.

"I feel stressed." I breathe out smiling. "As I pulled the key out of the ignition lock, I realized that I feel stressed."

My husband looks at me, confused. "How can you be happy about it?"

"Because she feels." Dr. Wyatt explains neutrally. "Do you feel stressed because of driving the car or because of Adaline?"

"Because of Adaline." I say, smiling again.

Suddenly, the hands of my husbands wave. "How can you be happy about it?!"

I look at him, "Let me enlighten you: Adaline's ten days old now. Which means for ten days, every single time I looked at her I felt nothing. I didn't feel happy, I didn't feel like my heart would burst out of love, in fact there was no love at all. But now… now there's stress. I feel stress."

"Stress is not a positive emotion." he snorts.

"But it's an emotion. Don't you get it? I feel! I am finally able to feel." I say to him.

His blue orbs cloud and I know he's scared. He thinks I am developing negative emotions towards our daughter. Maybe I am.

"What are you thinking Troy?" Dr. Wyatt seems to notice his eyes as well.

He looks at her, "I thought…" his glance moves over to me, "I thought you'd turn into my mother. But turns out you're turning into Victoria."

I gulp, "That's exactly my fear."

"You're afraid you turn into your mother?" Dr. Wyatt asks me.

I look at her, "Yes."

"And this is why you are so happy about feeling stress."

I look at Troy, "Yes. Don't you understand? It means that I'm not turning into Victoria. I'm not going to be heartless."

He brushes through his hair, "You are not heartless and you know I think Victoria's not heartless as well…"

"Drop the subject." I warn him. This is not going to turn into a session all about Victoria.

Dr. Wyatt leans back in her armchair, "No, let's not drop the subject. I think you should discuss it out."

I look at her.

"Don't try to kill me with your glance, Gabriella. Your mother is something you guys rarely talk about. And now, as turning into your mother is your biggest fear, I think you should talk about it and therefore demolish this fear."

"Can I take antidepressant instead?" I ask her.

She shakes her head, "I'm treating my patients with my heart before I start giving them pills."

I let out a big sigh before letting my body fall into the couch again.

"Do you think the way your mother treated you is influencing the way you want to raise Adaline?"

"She taught me nothing. She showed me a person I never wanted to be. She showed me everything I want to avoid. We could never communicate, because she didn't speak my language. She didn't hear me."

I notice my husband's eyes on me and I tilt my head to the side. "It's the first time you talk about her." His voice is a whisper, full of amazement. I don't talk about Victoria in appointments because I don't think of her.

"She wanted to erase her past life and therefore me when we moved to Manhattan. She didn't want me to talk about what happened in public. She only allowed me to talk about it with a psychologist."

"But she gave you financial safety."

"That wasn't important to me then and it isn't now."

"Then why did you used to work such long hours?" Dr. Wyatt asks me, "Could it be that you are still running, still avoiding certain situations?"

"I have a home now. A person I can run to. I don't run now. I stay and fight."

"Do you think you this is what you're doing with your daughter now?"

"Neither am I running nor fighting. I am stuck."

"Has Victoria tried to contact you after Adaline's birth?" Dr. Wyatt asks me.

"No."

"Yes." my husband says, causing me to tilt my head to the side.

"What?!" I ask him shocked. "She... she called you?"

"After the news of Adaline's birth broke she called me. To congratulate us and ask how things are going."

My mouth drops open. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"Why should I? It wouldn't have changed anything. It's not like you care." I watch Troy raising an eyebrow at me.

"What?" I ask him, shrugging.

He shakes his head. "You will never turn into Victoria." he says in a soft voice. I expected him to argue with me, but not this.

"Don't say that. You don't know that. You can't see the future, can you?!" I snap at him.

He leans forward, grabbing my hand. "You won't let anyone hurt Adaline. Your sense of safety is huge - at least considering others. Because you care. You care what she does, who she meets, who's with her… you care, Gabriella."

I bite my lip, "I might care but I don't love."

"You love, can't you see?" he asks me, brushing through my hair. "In your way, you love."

I shake my head, "I am not head over heels in love with her. I don't know what she wants when she cries. I don't know when I have to feed her or change her diapers or just have to engage with her."

"Gabriella..." he sighs.

"I am not the mother she deserves. I am... I don't feel. Emotionally she means nothing to me." I whisper the last part, hoping he won't hear me. When he doesn't react, I know he hasn't heard me. Nether the less it felt good to say it out loud.

"Okay," Dr. Wyatt says, putting her pen and notepad. "let me start by saying you are not suffering from a depression, Gabriella."

I look at her, "I'm not?"

"No." she says with a soft smile on her lips, "What's been making you feel this lack of emotions is fear."

"Fear?" I ask her, surprise on my face. "I'm not afraid of her." Or am I?

"It's not her you are afraid of. It's… it's the responsibility she embodies." Dr. Wyatt says slowly.

I frown. "I'm afraid of the responsibility?" I ask her back.

"Yes. You don't want to make the same mistakes." she nods, "To put it in your words: You are afraid of fucking her up the way your mother did with you."

"Oh that makes sense!" I breathe out.

"And to avoid this fear, you just stopped feeling towards her. Feeling anything at all. Which is why you felt no love, no anxiety, no joy… You only felt once. And that was when you fed her."

"You felt something when you breastfeed her?" Troy asks me.

I look at him, "I cried." I say with a shrug. "I was in pain. I cried because of the pain. Not because of her."

"You cry because she hurts you. The physical pain she made you feel was the only trigger Adaline was able to find to make you feel anything at all." Dr. Wyatt explains to me, "And now you are stressed."

"Yes."

"She's making you feel stress. But the stress doesn't come from her being in the same car with you. What's making you feel stress is the responsibility you have out of the sudden by sitting behind the wheel. By driving her."

Maybe I should have chosen to sit next to her in the car. Out of the sudden it seemed to be the better choice.

"She feels stressed because she's taking responsibility of her?" Troy asks, being more confused than me.

I look at him, "But I am taking responsibility, can't you see?" I'm taking responsibility!

"You're smiling." Dr. Wyatt says to me, smiling as well.

"Am I?" I ask her, amazed by my facial expression.

"Yes." Troy says, looking at me. "You are not depressed, my angel."

I shake my head, "No, I'm not." I agree with him.

"Nevertheless, I want you guys to take it slow. What's good is that you are starting to gravitate towards your daughter. Slowly and naturally. You gravitate towards taking care of her and letting her receive it. Adaline gives you love back, which you are starting to receive. You are slowly allowing her to get inside your heart. You'll get there." she promises me, "Take it step by step. Day by day. Moment by moment."

I nod, "Okay…" it sounds calming. "We're going in the right direction."

"Definitely." she smiles at me, "How's the meditation going for you both?"

"I'm calmer." Troy says as I feel him squeezing my hand. "I feel more balanced during the day. My thoughts are clearer, my actions well-thought-out and my feelings are sorted. I am not as stressed, I am more in the moment." He has been meditating for four months now. It used to be so weird to see him sitting on the floor with his legs crossed and eyes closed. But now... now I'm used to it.

She nods, "That's where I want you to get to. But that doesn't mean you can stop now. It's a constant work. You need to keep doing it, to keep staying at this stage."

He nods, understanding Dr. Wyatt for the first time during this appointment, I think.

"What about you?" she asks me.

I shrug, "I haven't noticed anything to be honest. I mean, it's so hard! Focussing on my breath, letting thoughts pass by and not reacting to them in any way… that's hard work! I thought meditation was just sitting there with crossed legs and closed eyes. But it's a lot of work! I was not prepared for that. I was not prepared for the crazy, chaotic mess that's in my head."

"Try sorting it out." Troy says to me, "It's not fun, but it's worth it. The clarity you get afterwards… it's worth it."

Just his look makes me want to continue doing it. If I ever see this clear… that's enough motivation for me. "Okay." I whisper back.

"How's life with a newborn beside this?"

Troy's eyes leave mine, "It's lovely and hard work. But we're doing alright. I mean, we have help if we want any. But I think we're doing a good job. We're doing the best we can right now."

"How are the nights?"

"Rough." I say to her. "We wake up every two to three hours. Usually, she's hungry or needs her diaper to be changed."

"Who wakes up at night?"

"We rotate." Troy says, "Sometimes it me, sometimes it's her. It depends on what Adaline needs."

I look at him, "You're a wonderful parent." he truly is.

His eyes soften as he looks at me, "You are too. In your way."

I want to protest, but I don't.

"I'm glad you talked to me about this. I never want you to suppress your feelings again." It's part of the reason that got us here.

I nod, "Me, too."

"What about intimacy?" Dr. Wyatt asks us. "I mean, I know you are a very sexual couple. Has that changed?"

"Sex… that's not on our minds." I answer for Troy and me. Truth to be told, I haven't felt attracted to him. And my husband's focus was on her and not me, which is fine. I understand him. I'd be the same. If only I felt anything.

"What about sports? Are you working out?" the shrink asks me.

I shake my head, "I'm not allowed to yet."

"Is it on your list?"

I can't wait until I can put on my running shoes again and go for my first run through Richmond park again, "Definitely."

"Good. An active lifestyle is important for you. For both of you. So, I have some homework for you." Dr. Wyatt starts, "Starting from the moment you leave this practice, I want you, Troy, to leave Gabriella and Adaline alone. For about 24 hours you are going to be an observant."

I feel a shiver going down my spine. I'm going to be alone with her. I don't like this idea. It's too soon. It's too fast. It's not a good idea.

He nods, "Okay."

Dr. Wyatt looks at me, "How does this make you feel?"

"More stressed." I say in a breath.

"Good. I think you just need a little push. You need some... forced motivation."

"I don't think I can handle her alone."

"You can and you will." She promises me. "Try to sleep when she sleeps. Adjust your schedule to her's not the other way around. It will make you feel less stressed."

I sigh, "Okay. I'll try."

"Excellent. We're going to talk about it in our next session."

"On Monday?" Troy asks her as we raise from the couch.

"Yes." she says, "I think we can keep our regular schedule."

I nod at her, shaking hands as Troy picks up the baby car seat. Adaline slept through the whole hour.

"Troy," Dr. Wyatt says, looking at the baby car seat, "I want Gabriella to carry the baby car seat."

Without a word my husband hands me the seat and I take it. It's lightweight, but it feels strange at the same time. I hope I don't bump against any furniture or doorframes.

"Any feelings?" she asks me after she shook hands with Troy.

"Worry." I mumble, looking at the carseat. The cotton blanket is still draped over the seat.

"Good." she says with a smile on her lips.

We follow Dr. Wyatt through the hallway of her practice and she holds the door open for me. Lifting my arm, I put first her through the door and then me. No bumps happened. It's a start. A positive, I might say. I walk to the car, trying to not let the baby car seat swing too much. I don't want to wake her up. I don't want her to cry. I don't know what I'd do then. Troy unlocks the black Porsche Cayenne and I open the door behind the driver's seat, about to put in the baby car seat.

"No. Put it on the passenger's seat." he says to me, stopping me. "I'll be sitting on the rear bench."

Observing. He's really going through with this. I feel my hands starting to sweat as I take the car key out of his hands.

"Okay." I say, opening the passenger seat before placing the car seat on it. I fasten her seatbelt and lift the cotton blanket to peek inside. She's happily sleeping. Hopefully for the whole ride. I slowly shut the door close and walk around the black Porsche. I open the door, sit down and fasten my seatbelt. I take a look in the review mirror and see my husband's looking at me. His blue eyes are filled with confidence. He thinks I can do this. I hope so as well. I start the engine and navigate us through the London traffic again.

* * *

I walk down the stairs to our kitchen, smelling cooking food. In my hand I'm holding the baby phone. It was tough to put her to sleep and maybe she's actually going to sleep longer than a few minutes this time. There's soft jazz music playing and I can hear my husband singing along with the music. It's been a while since I've heard him sing, but cooking has that effect on him. Cooking must've been his form of mediation before Dr. Wyatt even suggested it. I think the appointment with her today was helpful - more for him than for me. He seems calmer. Placing the baby phone on the kitchen island, I watch my husband opening the oven.

"You're just on time. I've made lasagne." he says, getting out the dish.

The smells makes my mouth watery. I didn't realize I was hungry, but I guess between entertaining, feeding and changing diapers I was too busy to think about it. "It smells delicious. But shouldn't you be observing only?"

"Concerning you and Adaline. But I don't think it includes me taking care of you. No one can take that away from me." he puts lasagna on the plates.

I smile, "We're doing alright. I think."

"Good." He says picking up the plates. "Let's eat."

On my way into the dining room, I pick up the baby phone and two glasses filled with red wine. Knifes and forks are already on the table as well as candles, which are lit. There's a colorful salad in a bowl placed in the middle of the table.

"You made quite an effort there, Mr. Bolton." I point out as I place his glass in front of the plates. "Candles… red wine?" I ask, holding up my wine glass.

He smiles at me, "You deserve a night off. Besides, you've pumped down enough milk so I don't think alcohol will do any harm. I want you to feel comfortable."

I sit down across him, "Alcohol doesn't make me feel comfortable. You do."

He places his hand on mine, "Good."

I smile as I feel the warmth of his hand on mine, "Good." I echo before he withdraws his hand and we start eating. Just like every time he cooks, he cooks with love. Lots of love… and flavor. I feel the spices exploding in my mouth, creating a symphony I didn't think was possible. What I do with music… he does with cooking. It's delicious and goes straight into my heart. "The lasagna is really good." I say, taking a sip of the red wine. I let the red liquid glide down my throat, it's been so long since I last had any wine. It feels like eternity.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier about what was going on with you?" it's like he completely ignored my compliment.

I gulp down the food, staring at blue orbs. "Because I felt ashamed." I answer, picking up more food.

"There's no need to feel ashamed." his eyes are soft, his lips form a thin line.

I take another sip of the red wine. So, this is why we're drinking wine. He wants me to talk.

"We could have gone through this together." he whispers as I look up.

"We are going through this together now." I say back, biting my lip.

"You should have told me."

"I told you."

"Eight days later."

I shrug, "Better later then never, right?"

"Don't joke." his voice is strict and I feel chills going down my spine.

I lean back in my chair, "I did what I did. I won't apologize for it."  
He puts the fork and the knife on the plate before wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I'm not asking for an apology."

"Then what do you want from me?!" I hiss at him, surprised by the turn this evening is taking.

"You're excluding me."

My mouth falls open, "I'm what?!"

"You're excluding me." he repeats, his eyes focussing mine.

"I am not excluding you. We're married, we have a newborn, we live together… I love you." I start arguing. I didn't realize I've hurt him so badly.

"Then what happened to we're in this together? What happened to your shit is mine? What happened to this? Tell me! Why are you pushing me away?"

I get up from the chair, "I'm no longer listening to you." I shake my head. This is ridiculous. I'm not going to defend my decision again. I will not let him judge me again.

He raises from his chair, stoping across me. "I'm trying to understand you."

I gulp as his eyes make me feel his pain again.

"Help me." he whispers, his hand holding mine.

I withdraw my hand, "No, you are not trying to understand. You are judging me. You are blaming me. You are blaming us. But this has nothing to do with you. It has nothing to do with us. This is about me. About me and my non-existing feelings for our daughter. You don't get to turn tables on me." I feel anger building inside of me. I don't want to fight, but he's giving me no choice. "You think it's me making the same mistake over and over and over again. Well, I am not. Because unlike the last time I kept something from you, this time it has nothing to do with you. Nothing. It's not your feelings that are not existing it's mine."

"This is as much of a problem of mine as it is your's. And I should have seen it. I should have seen you changing."

"No you shouldn't. You are no longer here to hover over me 24/7. You have a daughter to look out for. We have a daughter to look out for. This isn't your fault as much as it is mine. It is what it is." I say, fondling his cheek. "It is what it is and you need to deal with it."

"I hate this."

"I hate that, too." I say into his eyes, "But fighting over it won't make it go away. As much as blaming each other will. I'm in this and I am in this alone. There's nothing you can do to help me. I need to go through this alone, which is why I struggled with telling you. If there's nothing you can do, why should you know about it?"

"Because I am your husband and I am by your side no matter what." he says back, "Because I care about you as much as you care about me. Maybe more. Because I have your back no matter what you decide. Because you are the pulse to my heartbeat. Because I promised that you will have me until my last breath, which I proved more than once. Because we promised to not have secrets from one another. Because we vowed…" he stops, licking his lips before his eyes look up at mine again, "Because we love each other."

I feel my heart falling to the ground, shattering into a thousand pieces. Suddenly, my perspective seems stupid and wrong. Maybe he was right. Maybe I've excluded him. "I don't know what to say." I breathe out, having tears in my eyes.

"Promise me this won't happen again." his fingers fondle my cheek, "Promise to be open towards me, even if it's hard. Promise to let me in and never exclude me from anything. No matter how unimportant it seems to be towards you. Let me love you the way you're suppose to."

I gulp, feeling overwhelmed by his words, his look and his love for me. Jesus, I don't deserve a man like him. Yet I have him until his last breath. I nod because words fail me before I kiss him softly, "I promise."

* * *

I sit down in the rocking chair, my eyes focused on the white moses basket in which my daughter is sleeping in. She's fast sleep. Finally. It's about half past eight in the morning and I can see the sun starting to rise as pink strikes of lights start filling her room. I yawn and stretch my arms out. It was a rough night. I woke up every hour, feeding her or changing her diapers. And then there was this one time when she just didn't want to go to sleep again. I rocked her in the armchair, but that didn't help. So, I started walking around with her. Down the hallway, down the stairs, through the kitchen and living area. I talked to her. Like Troy has done so many times. I promised her I'd get better. I promised her we'd develop a relationship. I promised her I won't screw her up the way Victoria did. I promised. So, I have to keep my promise. Having a newborn is a lot of work. It requires strength, I don't seem to have.

"Hey," I hear my husband's deep voice saying.

I look away from the moses basket and straight into his bright blue orbs. He's wearing a simple v-cut shirt and pajama pants. He's standing in the doorframe, simply being breathtaking.

"Good morning." I say with a smile on my lips. "Did we wake you?"

He shakes his head before walking over to me. "No. 24 hours are over." he knees down in front of me. I grin, he hasn't been on his knees for a while now. But I gasp as I feel his fingers brushing through my hair.

"You should get some sleep." his voices is soft, his eyes are mesmerizing. I probably look as bad as I feel. "I take her from here." I pull his fingers out of my hair and lace mine with his.

I kiss his knuckles, "Thank you for not asking how I feel." I say, rising from the rocking chair. I can hear her moving in her bed. Hopefully she doesn't wake up. But of course she does. I watch Troy getting out of his shirt before he lifts her out of the moses basket. She moves a little and makes some noise but calms down as she feels the warmth of her father's upper body. He lays her down, her head resting on his heartbeat. Within seconds she's back to sleep while he's rocking in the chair. Why didn't I think of this? It's so simple… yet so effective.

"Go." he whispers to me with a smile on his lips. He's enjoying every second he gets to spend with her. To him it doesn't matter if she cries, smiles or sleeps. Every second is precious.

I reflect his smile, feeling peace for the first time in the last eleven days. She's safe with him and I can finally get some sleep. The sleep I badly need.

* * *

 **A new chapter! I hope you liked it. Please review!**

 **Xoxo**


	3. Chapter 3

Adaline's shrill cry fills my ears, waking me up from a short sleep. I've been up every two hours, feeding her. My hands reach out for the baby phone on the nightstand to shut it off. I open my eyes as I feel my husbands hands on the baby phone shutting it off for me. His bright blue orbs look at me for a moment, before his lips curl into a smile.

"I'll go. She probably needs her diaper to be changed." he whispers as his fingers brush through my hair.

"What time is it?" I ask, withdrawing my hand. I could use a few more minutes of sleep.

"Six thirty."

I let my eyes dance down my husband's body. He's wearing a black shirt and Armani boxers. The v cut shirt is tight, hugging his ton d torso. Unlike me he doesn't look like he needs more sleep. I watch him walking out of the bedroom before I get up as well. A cold shower is what I need to feel awake. The sun is starting to rise I notice as strikes of light starts filling the bedroom and bathroom. I stripe out of my shirt and panties before I turn on the shower. Yawning, I step into the shower. I close the glass door before stepping under the rain shower head. Warm water splashes against my skin. I close my eyes before turning the water icy cold. I don't even shiver as I feel the icy cold water touching my skin. It feels like needles for a second. It makes me feel. I stand under the water for minutes until goosebumps starts covering my skin. Until my body starts showing any effect. Then I start washing my hair and my body. Not once do I turn the water into warm again. I turn the water off, squeeze the water of out my hair, wrap myself into a fluffy towel and feel just as sleepy as before. The sun is shining into the bathroom signalizing the brand new day. But I feel just as tired as the day before. And the day before that.

As I brush my teeth I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My skin looks pale and tired. My eyes are a bit bloodshot and I have bags under my eyes. I look as shitty as I feel. I spit out the toothpaste and wash my mouth as I hear Adaline's voice crying again. I close my eyes, sighing before I walk out of the bathroom. I see Troy standing next to the bed, holding her in her arms. They look wonderful, yet I am too tired to acknowledge it fully.

"She's hungry." he explains.

I nod, "Just give me a moment to get dressed." I mumble before disappearing in the closet. As I pick out my underwear and home wear, I hear my husband breathing behind me. I feel the warmth of his body behind my back, his eyes burning beneath my skin and his thoughts messing up mine. I get into my panties before turning around. He looks sorry and sexy. His warm hands rest on my shoulders, creating goosebumps on my skin.

"You showered under cold water." he notices before his fingers unwrap my body from the towel.

"Yes." I say as he hands me my shirt. I'm half-naked and I don't even feel any sexual tension between us. All I feel is tired. I can hear Adaline's voice in our bedroom. She's talking to us in a language we are not able to understand. I get into the shirt and into my shorts.

"Are you okay?" his voice is a whisper as he rests his forehead against mine. He is full of warmth, while I am icy cold. It's the contradiction we've always embodied. It's why we're so drawn to each other, yet there's nothing left of it. We're struggling because I am struggling. It's ironic how much we depend on each other when we used to be the most independent people.

"Yes. I am just tired." I whisper back as I feel his fingers fondling my cheek.

"Are you sure?"

I nod, "I'm okay."

I walk into the bedroom, seeing our daughter laying on the bed. She's awake, moving her hands and feet. I roll up the shirt as I get seated on the bed. I rest my body against the headboard of the bed before I start breastfeeding Adaline. As her lips start sucking on my nipple, I feel the sharp pain going through my body once more. I am nursing her. I shouldn't be in pain.

I look up from her, my eyes meeting Troy's. I can see his love for her and his inability to understand my feelings. I know what's coming next: he wants answers.

"How can you not love her?" he asks me, brushing through his hair before he gets seated across us.

I feel another sharp pain going through my body and tears start forming in my eyes. Unlike last time, I let the tears roll down my cheeks. I shrug, "I just do."

He shakes his head, "Then why are you crying?" He wipes away the tears from my cheeks.

"Because she makes me feel pain. And because you make me feel guilt."

"I just don't understand it. I don't want to judge you in any way."

"I know. But it's how I feel."

"I love you and I don't blame you."

I bite my lip as I feel pain in my nipple as well. "I love you too and someday I will love her as well. But right now…" I don't finish my sentence.

"I hate seeing you cry. " he breathes out for me as I give her the other breast, "This is so hard."

"Yes. But it's our life right now." I say as I feel his hand on mine.

* * *

I watch the white cup filling with brown gold, allowing my nostrils to get filled with the smell of coffee. Yawning I get out the milk from the fridge before putting it in both of our cups. The notes of Troy's ringing cellphone reach my ears and I know he's only a few meters away from me. I hear him taking the call and turn around only to watch him walking down the stairs and into our kitchen.

"No we're not interested in selling photos of our daughter. No matter the amount of money they offer." his voice is calm but I can see his stiff chin. Every since the news of Adaline's birth went public we get calls from newspapers every day. People, Elle, OK Magazine… they all called and offered a ridiculous amount of money. While some offered thousands, others offered more than 15 million pound. But no money can make up for the insane chase we're going to get when they're out. It's been quite a struggle with the paparazzi anyway, but thanks to Krimov we managed to not get photographed whenever we are out for a walk with her. Living outside of the City of London definitely has it's advantages. It was the right decision to move here.

I hear my husband sighing as he reaches the kitchen island. He has been on the phone with his assistant most mornings. While he may want to take a month off, his firm is not ready to give him up. A few hours a day he ends up on the phone. Either with his business partner or his assistant - or sometimes both. But I love having him in the house. He's more help I could ever wish for.

"Okay, I'll discuss it with my wife." he says before hanging up.

I hand him his cup of coffee and take a sip of mine. The sun is shining into our kitchen, creating a halo around my husband's silhouette. He calls me his angel when really he is mine. His white golden wedding band is shining as he takes a sip of his coffee. He looks happy, awake and breathtaking.

"What do you want to discuss with me?" I ask, leaning against the kitchen island.

"Forbes called apparently."

I frown, a business magazine called? "What do they want?"

"An interview paired with a photoshoot." he explains to me.

"Well Bolton's Enterprises could use the publicity. I mean, an article paired with some breathtaking pictures of the Bolton brothers… that issue is going to be a bestseller no doubt." I say, taking another sip.

"Not with Lucas. They want an interview with you and me."

I start choking on the coffee, "What?" Why the hell would they want that? I can understand tabloids asking for interviews, but Forbes?

"They want to interview us both. And it wouldn't just be a couple of photos… we would be the cover story. Of the August issue."

It's still April. They have roughly four months. "Why?"

"Entwined moguls: How the Boltons took the world within a year. That's the headline until they come up with something better."

"But why… Why me?"

He places the cup of coffee on the kitchen island before taking the cup out of my hands. "Because you are a Bolton and you took the business within a blink of an eye. Unfaithful records wrote black numbers within a few months - that's a huge success. And then there's Aching Hearts for which you've raised more than 10 million Pound last year - with just one concert! What you see is the hard work last year was, but other's see the glamour and the success you've had." his fingers fondle my cheeks.

"And then there was our wedding." I breathe out. The whole scandal surrounding our escape… the whole press chasing us. "Our union."

"Yes. With our wedding we entwined billions of pounds, which means we are one of the richest couple in business. The most successful and hardworking couple, yet one of the richest."

I bite my lip, "I don't like the idea of us on a cover on some magazine."

"Okay…" he trails off, resting his hands now on my hips, "We are on magazine covers daily. Rumors and photos of us going to work, going on dates… everything is being documented anyway. Why not take a little control?"

"I feel like we're fighting fire with fire here."

"Ever since we got together we've been in the spotlight. Side by side. Day by day. I think by doing this interview we get to position the spotlight in a way the public has never seen us before. What they see is glamour, money and success. But what they don't see is the hard work we're putting into our success."

"So you want to do it?"

His answer is a shrug, "My decision depends on your's. If you're not willing to do it, then we won't."

"I need to think about it more than five minutes. When do they need an answer?"

"Mid June."

I nod, "That's enough time."

* * *

"What movie do you want to watch?" The voice of my husband reaches my ears before his silhouette blocks my vision of the television. His hands place two glasses with white wine on the coffee table in front of the couch. Wine... he wants me to talk again.

I raise an eyebrow at him, "No pressure this time. Sometimes wine is just wine."

"Okay."

"Okay... so, which movie?"

He sits down next to me, "My sister's keeper." I answer, my eyes following his movements. If we're lucky, we get the whole two hours for us. If we're lucky, we have some time for us. If we're lucky...

"Why did you choose that movie?" He asks me as he places a blanket on my body before taking a sip of his wine.

"This morning after my shower... when you stood behind me in the closet... you watched me getting dressed. You wore that tight black shirt and the Armani briefs... feeling your hands on my shoulders..." I can see his mind remembering, "I felt nothing. There was no attraction. No sexual tension. There was nothing." His face frowns. "This is why I chose this movie. I want to feel. I need to feel. Anything."

Without another word he presses the play button on the remote control before pulling me into a hug. I rest my head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat clearer than the opening scene of my sister's keeper. I can hear his heart pumping blood through his body, I can feel his pulse, hear him breathing... I can feel his strong warm arms around my body, trying to comfort me. My nostrils get filled with his smell; a mixture of warm summer nights and blueberries. He smells wonderfully, he always has. My husband is the most comforting human on earth... yet I don't feel attracted to him.

I look up and catch his glance, "Troy," I start. I feel like I should say something to make him feel better.

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, "Don't. Don't let us talk about it. I love you and you love me."

"It's the straw we hold on to right now, isn't it?"

His fingers brush through my hair, "I could kiss you dizzy. I could fuck you until you remember. But I can't make you feel. Not anymore. I don't want to talk about it because we're going in circles. Again and again. We end up saying I love you and deciding to push the problem away. We've been doing this for three weeks now. Even with Dr. Wyatt we have had no breakthrough yet. We have a routine. Let's stick to this routine." His thumb runs over my lower lip.

I sigh, "You most definitely can still hurt me."

"That's a start isn't it?" he jokes as we both burst out in laughter. It's the first time that we've laughed in a long time... I can't properly remember the last time I laughed. It feels good. It almost feels like I am letting go. I'm letting go of something I don't know.

* * *

 **A new chapter! I hope you liked it. Please review!**

 **Xoxo**


	4. Chapter 4

Quickly, I walk down the steps and into the kitchen. Placing my weekend bag on the kitchen island, I fill my thermos jug with coffee. It should keep me warm until we reach the plane. It's early in the morning - about two. It's still dark and calm outside, but inside of me it's all chaos. I am nervous. I am scared. I am excited. I want this to be over. I don't want to go and at the same time I want to go. I have to.

"Do you have everything you need?" I hear my husband asking.

I turn around and watch him walking down the steps. Adaline's still asleep in her room. It makes saying goodbye easier. Not that I would feel anything towards her now, but I know that I'm going to miss her when I am in Florida. And that's a good sign. Missing her is a very good sign. Over the last weeks, I've pumped down as much milk as I possibly could. We even deep froze some of it. Just in case.

"Yes. Krimov already put the suitcase in the trunk of the Porsche." I say to him, wrapping my hands around the thermos jug. I watch Troy walking over to the island before picking up the weekend bag, which will be my carry on for the flight. "Are you sure you won't want me to come with you?" he asks me as we walk to the front door. There's a huge bouquet of pink peonies standing on the round table in the foyer. He could throw his plans away in a blink of an eye for me. He would do that. But we discussed it. Again and again until I convinced him to let me do this alone. Well, alone with Krimov by my side.

I put on moccasins and a light grey duffle coat. I bite my lip as I see his blue eyes. Even at two in the morning he can take my breath away. "Yes. I have to face the trail alone. I mean, I have Krimov as my company. Plus, I want Adaline to have her daddy when her mother's away. It'll be just two days. I'll be quick. Quicker than you know I am back in your arms."

Suddenly, he lets the bag dropping to the floor before he pulls me into a passionate kiss. I return his kiss, wrapping my arms around his body. As our tongues start battling, I feel my back pressed against the railing. His hands glide down my back, as his lips don't let go of mine. I feel hot, alive… For a moment I feel like myself again. For a moment I know exactly who I am. Not who I have to be.

I hear someone clearing his throat and I let go of my husband's lips, knowing it's Krimov.

"Mrs. Bolton, we have to get going. The plane's leaving in thirty minutes." his voice is soft, his grey eyes are filled with guilt. He didn't want to interrupt us, but he's doing his job. He's doing a good job.

"Yes." I say, my eyes not leaving my husband's. It's been a while since he kissed me dizzy and made me breathless. He hasn't done that since Adaline's birth. Since four weeks.

"I'll miss you." his voice is a whisper as he brushes through my hair.

"I'll miss you, too." I promise him as he picks up the bag again. I watch him handing the bag to Wladimir before his eyes meet mine again. "Call me when you've landed."

"I will." I promise him again before I feel his lips kissing mine. "I have to go." I whisper as he laces his fingers with mine. God, this is so hard…

"I know…" he whispers back.

"Now." I say to him, feeling already lonely.

He kisses my knuckles, "Have a safe flight, my love." he lets my hand go.

I smile before I walk out. The cold fogy London air starts sucking me in as I make my way to the black Porsche. I pull the duffle coat closer around my body. Krimov shuts the door after I take a seat. It's warm in the Porsche, but inside of me is coldness. I'll miss my husband as much as he'll miss me, but I have to go. I have to do this by my own. Maybe this will help me with my depression.

Krimov starts navigating us through the foggy, cold London night. The trail starts tomorrow in Florida, which due to the time difference would be in fourteen hours. We fly for about ten hours. If I sleep on the plane most of the time, which is what I'm planning to do, I think it's going to be enough time. Alicia Summers asked me to be present at the trail as I am the most popular victim. I will be the last victim questioned in court and therefore I don't need to be present for the whole trail. I am well aware of the press that's going to be there, but I have to do this. If it gets him into jail, I'll do it. I want Pastor Reed behind bars. Under all means.

* * *

The Miami heat clashes against my face as I exit the limousine with air conditioning. The sun is shining mercilessly. I totally forgot how hot it can get here. After about twenty minutes of driving we've reached the Biltmore Hotel in which we're staying in. There are palm trees everywhere, which is so typical of Miami. Wladimir Krimov gets out after me, wearing his poker face and sunglasses. I've slept most of the flight luckily, so I am not tired at all. I walk into the beautiful Mediterranean building which is here since 1926. The lobby is held in white I notice as I rush through it. I need to take a shower and change before going to court. I stop at the reception desk.

"Good morning. How may I help you?" a brunette with light grey eyes asks me in a polite voice.

Morning. Right, it's only morning here. It feels like late afternoon for me. "I booked two doubles for Gabriella Bolton." I answer and watch her typing my name into the computer. It's the first time the name Bolton hasn't made an impression to the other party. Maybe this is why my husband suggested this hotel to me. It seems to give me the anonymity I need so badly - at least for a few hours. Krimov stops next to me, his eyes a bit tired as he takes off the sunglasses. Unlike me, he hasn't slept on the plane. I noticed that he's quite a nervous flyer. I didn't expect a former FBI agent to be a nervous flyer.

"Mrs. Bolton it seems like you've been upgraded to the Everglades Suite." I read the name Louisa on her tag as her eyes look up. "It has two bedrooms on separate floors and a private elevator. Do you still want the other double?"

A suite. Troy has booked us the suite. I roll my eyes, why didn't I expect that? It's so typical of him. Only the best is good enough. I shake my head, "No. The Everglades Suite will be fine." I smile. I don't need a suite for only two nights in Miami. It's a waste of money to me, but at the same time I can understand my husband - this is how he takes care of me when we're apart. It's his way of showing he thinks of me.

"Alright, follow me to the elevator. Your luggage is already upstairs." Louisa says to us before we follow her through the lobby, pass the two golden elevator doors for the other guests and stop at silver elevator doors that open as soon as Louisa pushes the button. It's mirrored inside.

"Enjoy your stay, Mrs. Bolton and Mr. Krimov." Louisa smiles at us before we walk into the elevator.

"Thank you." I say, mirroring her smile before the doors shut.

"Doubles would have been fine." Wladimir says to me in a whisper.

I look at his reflection, "I agree, but my husband doesn't."

"It was his idea?" Wladimir seems surprised. I thought by now, he has realized that taking care of me involves luxurious and expensive things.

"Yes. His way of taking care." I say as the elevator doors open. I step out and feel my lungs losing air. My favorite smell starts filling my nostrils as my eyes are still trying to get used to the image. There are bouquets of pink peonies standing every where in the huge suite: the living area, the private kitchen and probably in the bedrooms and the bathrooms as well… Peonies. He bought me peonies.

"His way of taking care of you, huh?" Wladimir asks as he walks pass me. He seems to have lost his poker face as he is just as surprised as me. "Men send flowers to say they're sorry."

"But peonies mean I hate being apart from you." I mumble as I walk through the living area. Last time he bought me flowers was ages ago… it must've been after our third date. It looks so beautiful. I feel my heart beating heavily in my chest. Maybe he was right. Maybe he should have come with me.

"Which bedroom do you want?" Krimov asks me as he takes a look through the suite while I am still glued to the ground. I can't believe he did this.

"I don't care." I mumble, touching the peonies that are standing on the coffee table. Such beautiful flowers… I fetch my iPhone out of my purse and call him, although I know that saying thank you is not enough. He picks up after the first beep.

"Thank you for the peonies." I say first with a goofy smile on my lips. "They're stunning."

"You're welcome. See them as a sign that I'm with you." his voice echoes in my bones, "Though, I thought it'd be a struggle for you to get in the suite. I thought you'd insist on the two doubles."

I roll my eyes, "There was no fuss at the reception desk. I got the hint right away, Mr. Bolton, and went with the flow. Which was clearly the better option."

"I agree, because I don't think they were able to fit sixty peonies in that double room."

I laugh, "It would have looked like my office back in Manhattan." I say, remembering that day clearly.

"Maybe I should have done that instead…" I hear him mumbling on the other line.

"I miss you." I say as Krimov disappears in one of the bedrooms.

He inhales sharply and I know I've hit him straight into his heart, "I miss you, too. And so does our daughter."

"How is she?" I ask as I walk over to the windows. There's a beautiful view of Miami.

"Asleep again. But I think we're doing quite good. She knows you're gone. I think she's sensing it."

"I'll be back in less than two days." I promise him. "I love you."

"I love you, too." he says back before I can hear Adaline's cry in the background. "Call me when you're done."

"I will." I say before hanging up. I turn around and see Wladimir unpacking the little things he brought with him in his bedroom. He left the door open, not because he doesn't want any privacy, but because he has to keep an eye on me. After all, it's his job.

"Your husband is head over heels in love with you." he says, facing me with his back. There are peonies in his room as well.

I'm surprised he noticed me. "Yes, he is." I agree with him, "Wladimir, why don't you have a partner?" I ask as he turns around.

"Because this is my life right here." he says walking over to me, "There is no space for a woman."

I feel bad for keeping him from experiencing love. I used to think just like him. I didn't think love would exist…

"I'm enjoying my life. I like being alone, doing what I do." he starts explaining, "And truth to be told my job is what keeps me from wanting a woman in my life."

"You deserve to have fun then. There's no harm in having sex." Or a lot of sex.

A smirk appears on my Russian bodyguard, "I never said I didn't have enough sex in my life. But love… love's a tough one to find."

I shrug, "But it's worth it."

"It seems like it." he says, scanning the area behind me. Troy's love for me is clearly visible. "But love also means vulnerability. I don't want to be in the same situation as your's."

I gulp, of course as a former FBI agent he has some enemies as well. Dead bodies in his cellar. "I understand."

"Maybe one day… one day I'll float a room with flowers as well." he smirks at me.

* * *

I wait in the hall way, right in front of the closed court doors. It's a modern building with marble and dark wood inside. Krimov is sitting next to me. He's not leaving my side. I am grateful for someone next to me. I thought I could do this alone, but now being so close to go in there, I am happy to have someone with me. There's a five minute break inside the court now. The trail has been going on for two hours now. 15 victims have been questioned in court so far. I am the last one. I am their trump card. If they don't get him behind bars for the rest of his life with me, then there's no more hope in justice.

"How are you doing Mrs. Bolton?" Alicia Summers asks me. She has deep brown wavy hair and hazel eyes. She looks trustworthy and fierce, ready to take any fight.

I look at her, "I'm nervous. I haven't seen Pastor Reed in eight years."

"You are our most important victim." her lips are full and she smiles.

"Will you ask me questions in court as well?" I ask her. The questions are what makes really nervous. I can handle the glances, the pitiful smiles… but the questions. The questions are the hardest thing. They will reveal everything. My past. My horrible, scary past.

"Yes. Don't worry about right or wrong answers. Any answer will be good. We have enough evidence to get him behind bars. We need you to get him behind bars for the rest of his life."

"We'll get him there. I will do anything" I say to her, promising this to both of us.

"Good. Look to the jury. But not too much. Please wait outside until an officer comes to get you. Until that try to calm down. Everything's going to be fine." She promises me before she walks into the court.

I nod and bite my lip as the doors close again. All I can do now is wait until it's my turn. "Talk to me."

"What?" Krimov asks me confused.

"Talk to me. Tell me something to distract me."

"Okay… uhm… I want to have my own security firm one day."

I frown, "Really?"

"Yes."

"Having a security firm is your dream?" I ask, leaning back against the wall. Krimov as a CEO behind a desk. It's a picture I have to get used to. "When?"

"Maybe in ten years…when I have more experience. I like protecting people."

"Good, because I don't want you to leave me yet."

A laughter escapes the lungs of my Russian bodyguard, "Don't worry, you will always stay my clients."

* * *

"Mrs. Summers, you can start asking questions." Judge Reynolds says to Alicia Summers. I sit on an uncomfortable wooden chair, to my left is Judge Reynolds. To my right is the jury. Twelve strangers of all ages, all ethnics, are sitting there, staring at me. I am the most popular victim, the most powerful victim. Behind the lawyers I can see strangers sitting. Some are from the press. I can see journalists from CNN, ABC and other television programs. There are also photographers, but they are not allowed to take any pictures inside court. I can feel their eyes on me. I can almost hear their thoughts about me.

"Mrs. Bolton, I know you've written a report, which is evidence D3, but when was the first time Pastor Reed raped you?" her voice is strong and clear. Her hazel eyes focus on me. This is not the woman who spoke outside of these doors with me. This is a fierce, dominant lawyer I am facing.

I feel a shiver going down my spine and I have to knot my fingers in order for my hands to stop shaking, "I was eleven years old when it happened for the first time." I whisper but thanks to the microphone in front of me my answer is loud.

"How old were you when it stopped?"

"Sixteen."

"That's five years of raping." Mrs. Summers says, looking at the jury. "Five years of immense pain." the lawyer looks at me again, "Do you have a number for us? Do you know how many times Pastor Reed raped you?"

I shake my head, "No." my lips are shaking. I didn't count. I didn't want a number to hold on to. It would have made it even worse.

"Could you maybe tell us how many times it happened in a week?" she suggests. She wants the jury to have a better picture for them to visualize it clearer. She needs to create a stronger, more horrible image of Pastor Reed. We need that image.

I take a deep breath. I can do this. I will do this. "Between three and four times a week." I say to her, my eyes not daring to look at the other lawyer and Pastor Reed who is sitting next to him. I can't look at him. I can't.

"No further questions, your honor." Alicia Summers says before taking her seat again.

I frown, I thought this would be worse. I thought this would go on for longer. I thought she'd have more questions. Oddly, I don't feel as humiliated as I thought I would.

"Mr. Clark, your turn." Judge Reynolds says to the other lawyer and I watch him rising from the chair.

"Mrs. Bolton, you were abused as a child by your father, weren't you?"

"Objection!" Summers calls, "That's irrelevant."

"Overruled." Judge Reynolds says.

I exhale with closed eyes. What my father did has no place in this court! How dare he bring my father into the game! This is not about my father! This is not about my history with him! This is about Pastor Reed!

"Let me rephrase my question then. I have evidence that you were abused by your father when you were a child. Could it be that you confused actions from Pastor Reed with actions of your father?"

My mouth drops open. How dare he! "No, that's impossible." I try to contempt my anger.

"How's that impossible? The human brain is able to play it's tricks on us."

"Objection, your honor!" Summers yells again.

Judge Reynolds looks at me. "Sustained."

Is he serious?! I sit up straight, feeling anger rushing through my veins. "What my father did to me was in no where connection to what Pastor Reed did to me. I may have been eleven at that time, but my brain as well was my body was able to differentiate between those two actions. There's a difference between fists hitting your body and a penis thrusting into you, Mr. Clark. Or shall I give you coaching in biology?" I snap at him again, making the courtroom whispering and talking about my words.

"Quite! Mrs. Bolton I strongly ask you to keep your temper to yourself." Judge Reynolds says to me.

"I apologize your honor." I mumble into the microphone in front of me.

"You have quite a big name in the press, Mrs. Bolton." Clark starts again, "Could it be that you're using your reputation to get Pastor Reed more years than he deserves?"

"Objection! Mrs. Bolton's reputation has no relevance to this case!"

"Your honor, by naming Mrs. Bolton as a victim the defense has clearly used her reputation to give this case a more relevant presence in the press. I mean, just look behind me. The number of journalists is immense!"

Judge Reynolds sighs, "Sustained. Mrs. Bolton, please answer the question."

More years than he deserves?! He deserves to spend every single year of his fucking life behind bars! He deserves to be in prison until his fucking last breath! "My reputation has nothing to do with what this is about. I am a victim of this sick raping just like 26 other women! We were all abused by him while he was telling us God wanted this. God asked for this." I rise from the chair, not able to contain my anger anymore, "Tell me where was God?! Where the hell was God when he was abusing me and 26 other women?! God didn't take the pain away we felt during and afterwards. God didn't take the fear away we felt going through the hallways. God didn't help. God let it happen."

"Mrs. Bolton, sit down!" Judge Reynolds orders.

"But a psychologist could help." Clark says to me.

I sit down and frown.

"Objection! Mrs. Bolton's mental health is not part of the case!"

"I've done my research and found out that you visited a psychologist to help you with your issues. Issues that were created as an aftereffect of the rape."

"Sustained. Mrs. Bolton answer the question."

"There was no question, your honor." I snap, making Summers smirk.

"Mr. Clark please rephrase your question."

"Have you ever talked to a psychologist about the rape?"

"I visited the psychologist after I had a miscarriage. It was after I moved to Manhattan."

"But the psychologist has no documents about you ever talking about the raping. Which makes me doubt there was a raping in the first case."

My chin falls down, "WHAT?! Do you want to see the medical record from my miscarriage? A DNA test which reveals that Pastor Reed was the father?!" I yell at him, "I don't talk about my rape. It's not something I am proud of."

"Yet you're sitting here with a straight back, letting your celebrity status shining inside the court."

"Objection! Argumentative."

"Sustained!"

I feel like everything's backfiring on me. Everything I ever did, or not, seems to catch up with me. look at Pastor Reed. He has grey hair and lots of wrinkles, but I can see his dirty grin and his black eyes. He hasn't changed a bit. He's not sorry. He's proud of what he did. He's not going to win this. I unknot my fingers and look at Mr. Clark again. "I was eleven years old the first time Pastor Reed raped me." I start, "I was wearing a plaited skirt, a white blouse and a black tie. I was wearing two french braids with bright pink hair ties. No make up. I was wearing sneakers. Nikes. I loved them. I wore them every day. After English class at Pastor Reed's classroom he asked me to stay. I watched the others leave. I thought he would tell me how great I was doing in school. And he did. After closing the door he started complimenting me. On my schoolwork. On my looks. On my character. I started feeling uncomfortable. But I gulped it down. I suppressed my feelings - like I still do. It's why I don't talk about it. But for the sake of this, I will. Not because you have no proof that he raped girls, but for the proof that he had done it for decades!" I say looking at the jury. "He started kissing me and I felt uncomfortable. I asked him to stop. But he didn't. He put his hand on my mouth and started undressing me. He pulled my panties down. I cried. I cried for help. I begged him to stop as I realized what he was about to do. He unbuttoned his trousers. They were black. He smelled of sweat and aftershave. I will never forget his smell. I bit into his hand to make him stop. But he tightened the grip around my neck. I started gasping for air. The grip was tight enough for me to not be able to move, yet loose enough for me to fight for air. The torture, the raping didn't make him feel pain, no it made him horny. It turned him on. This is who he is. This is his true self. He revealed his erection and I closed my eyes as I felt him pushing into me. It was the worst pain I ever felt in my life. Everything else is a blur." I can see the jury's faces reacting to my words. There's pain, tears, shock… some are shaking their heads in disbelief, other's are deeply touched. I can feel their pitiful brains thinking about this. I didn't want this. I don't want their pity. I want him behind bars. For. The. Rest. Of. His. Life.

"No further questions your honor." Mr. Clark says.

* * *

"The jury's now debating their sentence." Alicia Summers says to me as we stand in front of the closed doors of the courtroom. There are goosebumps all over my skin. The other victims are somewhere else. I'm glad. "You did an excellent job."

"I hope it will help." I say to her. I've never met the other victims and I don't want to. Even the suitor was not in the court. She was too scared of Pastor Reed. Something I understand. I was afraid as well. Until today. "How long will it take?"

"A couple of hours. Usually. I don't think this is going to take the whole night. Grab a coffee. Have a bite to eat. I'll call when they're ready." she says to me before walking away. She fought really well in court. I like her.

"How about we grab something to eat? I know a diner around the corner." Wladimir says to me.

I nod, food sounds good. "Yes. That sounds good." I'd kill for a cup of coffee right now. My phone rings in my purse and it takes me a moment to fish it out of my purse. It's Troy.

I feel my heart skipping a beat before I pick up, "Hi." I greet him with a smile on my lips. He makes the worst day a better one.

"Are you done?" his voice is a whisper and I know he's not alone.

"Yes." I say, biting my lip.

"How are you?"

"I've been better." I say, looking at the marbled wall. "The jury's debating right now."

"Okay…" I hear Adaline crying in the back, "I've got to go."

"I'll call you when we have a sentence." I say before he hangs up.

"I'll be right back." I say to Krimov before I go to the ladies bathroom. It's empty, I realize as I walk in. Just like the whole house, the bathroom is filled with marble as well. Polished beige colored marble. After this investigation, I feel sick but I don't vomit into the toilet. Thank God, I don't.

After I'm done, I wash my hands in the sink. I wash my hands twice with soap, as if it could wash away my memories of Pastor Reed. I'm sweating although the air condoning is blasting cold air in. Luckily, I am wearing a cardigan over the shirt. I feel hot and cold at the same time. I paddle dry my hands with the paper towels. Suddenly, I see a red-haired woman next to me. Electric blue colored orbs. Dark red full lips. She grabs my arm. She's holding a tissue in front of my mouth and I want to scream for help, but I feel my vision getting black.

* * *

 **A new chapter! Please review and tell what do you think is coming next. :)**

 **xoxo**


	5. Chapter 5

I feel an enormous headache as my eyes slowly open. My head hurts so much. I touch my head and feel wetness. It's so hot and sticky here. It's hotter than in Miami. I look around and see walls around me. No window. Just blank walls around me out of loam. It's a small room. There's a blanket on the floor, where I was laying on. Light is coming from a flashlight. Where am I?

There's no noise coming from outside. It's silent. It scares me. I look at my fingers and realise they are full of blood. My fingers are full of dirt. Blood and dirt. My blood... and dirt. Suddenly, I feel pain in my stomach and chest. My whole body starts aching. It's a hot in here, it's getting harder to breathe. This is not Miami. I am not in Miami anymore.

But where am I?

My jeans are ripped, my shoes are gone. I have naked feet. Feet which are swollen and pulse in pain. I didn't think feet could hurt so much.

"Hello?!" I scream, feeling pain in my jaw. "Help!" I have no idea how I got here. Everything's a blur. My vision is bad. Very bad.

I notice a sink with a mirror. I put on the water and see a brownish liquid coming out. The water is not clear, it's contaminated. I put it out and look at the mirror. I have an open wound on my forehead which is still bleeding. There are cuts all over my face. I have two blue eyes. My chin is pulsing. I look like a lot of pain and I feel a lot of pain.

There's a door and I try to open it. My fingers hurt. Everything inside of me responses with a pulsing pain. The door is locked. Someone locked it. I feel a shiver going down my spine. I got kidnapped. From the shooter. I am trapped. In God knows where. What will they do to me? Why did they kidnap me? I feel a panic attack coming and take deep breaths like Dr. Wyatt told me. I need to calm down. I am alive. It's a good sign. It means they need me alive. I touch my hair and realise that my hair's still pinned up in the chignon. I pull out two bobby pins and try to open the lock like one of the many Hollywood movies I've seen. But it doesn't work. I can't open it. I can't… open it. And it's so hot and humid in here. There's no fresh air coming it. It's so hard to breathe. It's so hard…

Out of the sudden the lock opens. Carefully, I open the door and realize that there's a long hallway. With no floor. This is soil on the floor. The walls are not made out of cement, this is loam. It's why it's so humid. This is why it's so hard for me to breathe. I ran down the hallway. Running hurts so much. There has to be an exit somewhere.

I stop at a room with electronics in it. There's a laptop on a desk and a phone. An iPhone! I pick up the thing and start dialling 911. But it doesn't go through. It has no service. Where the hell am I?

I start dialling the only number I know by heart. I pray for him to pick up but again it doesn't go through. Suddenly, I notice there's wifi. How can there be wifi and no service?! I dial the number again and press FaceTime this time. I hear words coming from the hallway, so I hide behind the desk. I don't understand the language. It's not Spanish. It sounds like Portuguese.

My eyes stare at the screen and I pray for him to pick up. The battery is almost out. There's two percent left. I hope it will last long enough.

He picks up.

"Troy!" I say, seeing his face. God he looks so worried.

"Gabriella, where are you?" his voice is full of fear. His eyes are bloodshot. He hasn't slept. His hair is a mess. But he is beautiful. So beautiful...

"I don't know." I say to him in a whisper. The voices are getting louder. "They're coming. They found out I am gone."

"Get out of there! Now! Run!" he orders. I can see our fireplace in the background. He's home. "Run as fast as you can!"

The phones dies and I let it drop to the floor before I run out of room. I can hear them coming after me, but I run as fast as I can. I stop at the end of the hallway and pull the knob of the door. It doesn't open. It just doesn't open!

I turn around and run in another direction until I see another door. I try to open it but this door is locked as well. With all my power I kick against the door and the door falls down beneath me. I run out of the house and see wilderness. There's a tropical forest in front of me and stones beneath me. No asphalt. An old jeep that doesn't look like it would still drive is parked. My feet hurt, but I don't stop running. I have to get out of here. I have to survive.

I run into the jungle, feeling the humid air clashing against me. It's so freaking hot here. I'm still wearing my cardigan, shirt and jeans. Birds are singing in this jungle. Parrots. The birds are parrots, I notice as one flies by. I can even hear monkeys and frogs. There are bright coloured flowers. Alpinias, Amazon Lilies, Calatheas, Cattleyas, Cautleyas, Dahlias, Hibiscus, Laelias, Maxillaries and others I don't know the name of. It's beautiful and scary at the same time. Where am I?

I run up the hill on which the house is located on. It'll give me the best overview. Maybe I know then where I am. For minutes I run until I stop hearing their voices. My lungs are burning. I am so thirsty. I need a break. I stop at one of the many huge trees and lean against it. It's so hot. I take off my cardigan and wrap it around my hips. I might need the fabric. I could built shoes off of it. My feet hurt so much. Shoes would be nice.

Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain in my left hand and I look at it. An ant bit me. An ant… I withdraw my hand, feeling the poison rushing through my veins. I want to scream in pain, but I bite my lip so hard that I can taste the iron of my blood. The kidnappers are out there somewhere, looking for me. I am dizzy and I sweat. Here are toxic ants in this jungle. And probably scorpions, snakes and other dangerous animals. Maybe tigers. I am not in the States. This is not Florida. I see the forest clearing at the edge of the mountain in the distance. Maybe two miles away. I can do that. I can go to there. I just have to be careful where I step. And what I touch.

I slowly climb up the mountain. I feel the poison from the ant stitch running through my veins. It burns so much. It hurts so badly. The more I move, the more pain I feel. It hurts so much… But I have to get going.

I stop at the edge of the mountain. The sun is shining down at me mercilessly. It's a strong sun, wherever I am. The view is just what I need to locate myself. I am definitely not in the States anymore. This is not sunny, shiny, happy Florida. I see the ocean and beach in front of me at the horizon. Beneath me are houses made out of loam. Some have steel walls. There are tents made out of trash bags. There are children playing in the dirt. Some are playing soccer with trash bags. Mothers are washing the little clothing they have for their children and laying it on the top of the houses. Some houses have roofs, others don't. These are slums. The poorest regions. Before them is more jungle. There's a lot of jungle between me and the Slums. It's a long way down. I look to my right and realise that the beach in front of me is the Copacabana. My eyes stop at the Cristo Redactor statue which is to my left.

I am in Rio de Janeiro.

* * *

 **A new chapter! Who do you think has Gabi?**

 **Xoxo**


	6. Chapter 6

I rip my cardigan apart and wrap it around my feet. Sitting on a stone, I create something like socks. I have to protect my feet. I may have no shoes, but socks... it's better than nothing. After all, I have a long way ahead of me. I have to find the American or British embassy. Or a police station. Or a hospital. A hospital is probably the smartest choice.

But it's so far away. Everything's so far away and I don't know if I survive. I feel weak. I feel pain. I am thirsty. I am hungry. I feel too much. I am sweaty and dehydrated. I can't do this for much longer. I have to find something to drink. Coconuts. I bet this jungle has coconuts. I have to find a place to hide at. Maybe to sleep at. It's getting dark soon. The sun has changed its place and in the tropics there is no long dawn, it gets dark quickly. Too quickly. Darkness in a jungle is something I can't deal with. Something I might not survive. I have to take my chances in the Brazilian Slums. It's my only option.

In the distance I can hear the same voices as in the house talking. They are coming closer. Now or never. I start running again, down the mountain. It's very steep and I fall a couple of times over the roots. Branches clash against my face and I feel a burning sensation. Toxic branches, just what I needed. But I have to keep running. I can't stop or else they catch me. It's May which means there won't be any rain, no monsoon I have to consider. Rain would make running a lot more difficult. But it would give me water. Something to drink. I try to look where I step and where I run at the same time. There're so many trees, so many bushes and so much steepness beneath my feet. But I run. I run as fast as I can.

Because I can survive this. I have to. For Troy. For Adaline.

* * *

I am out of breath when I reach the Slums of Rio. There's a horrible smell filling my nostrils making me feel sick. I must've run for hours. The sun is setting. There's no water, no canalisation, no sanitisation, no electricity. Nothing. Just dirt and trash which is used to make clothes for the people living here. The many people living here. Children are playing in dirt. Babies are crying. Women are washing in pots. There are no roads. The houses, if you can call them that, are close to one another. It's dirty and the people are so skinny.

"Help!" I say to a group of children, but they don't understand me. They look at me like I am an alien. I look scary. I know.

I continue running, looking for older people. I need someone who can understand me. I feel dizzy. I feel sick. I am in pain… I feel so much pain. Everything's so tight. The roads are tight and crowded. Nobody listens to me. Nobody sees me. I look like them. Nobody understands me.

There're rats running around and the smell is too disgusting to describe. Mouldy food is laying on the floor, which some animals and people still eat. It's so crowded with children, who seem to work.

I stop as I see a man in jeans and a shirt. "Help. Please help me! I need help." I say to him, trying to make him understand.

"Yes. Help." he has white hair and dark blue eyes. He doesn't look Brazilian.

"Yes!" He understands me! I let out a laugh, "Where's the American or British embassy? Or the police? Or a hospital? Where am I?"

The man looks at me confused before he places his hand on my shoulder, "Help…" he says again, leading me into one of the houses.

"No, I need a doctor. Or a police officer." I say to him as we enter a house. There's a woman in there and she starts screaming at him in Portuguese. I don't understand Portuguese but it sounds like she's mad at him. For I don't know what. In the corner I can see eight children. They look scared at me. I realise this room is all they have to live in. It's a small room. For ten people way too small.

"Please, is there some way I can go to a hospital?" I ask them helplessly.

The woman looks at me. Did she understand me? "Here no hospital." she says to me.

She can understand me! She can understand me! "Where is a hospital?"

"City. Far away. Four hours." she says in broken English but I am so glad she understands me. "No car."

Four hours… I can survive another four hours on feet. Maybe if I keep moving, I keep going and I keep… surviving. Suddenly, everything starts spinning. I can hear the woman still arguing with the man. She's loud. It hurts my ears. I feel my vision going black before I crash to the floor. No hospital.

* * *

I feel a hard surface beneath me as I wake up. I am still in the same house, I notice as I see the little interior. There are blankets on the floor which function as beds. There's no oven, no plates, no toilet. There's nothing in here - not even a sink or water. Just four walls and a roof. Out of trash bags.

I hear the same voices as in the jungle talking and I feel a shiver going down my spine. It's the kidnappers voices. They found me. Two male voices. Two men. I look through the window and see two men in shirts and jeans giving the woman some money. I don't know how much. She points in the direction of me. She sold me. For money.

There's no morality in the Slums. They all do what they can to make it through the day. It's dark now and we all know that darkness holds more secrets we think. What happens in the darkness stays in the darkness.

I get up and run out of the front door; it's the only door in the house. I can't see much in the darkness. Here are no lights. Just the moon and the stars which shine not bright enough to make me see where I am running. The men notice me and run after me. They are faster than me, I notice as they're getting closer quickly. Too quickly. Suddenly, I feel arms around my hips, pulling. I start kicking and screaming for help but stop as I feel a needle in my arm.

* * *

I wake up in a different room. It's a different house. This time the walls are made out of cement. There's also light in here. The light is blending my vision. It's not as humid. There's air conditioning.

"She's awake." I hear a deep male voice saying. It's clear English. No accent. The voice belongs to an American.

My vision is blurry and my whole body aches from pain. My wrists are tied together. I am sitting on a chair. Every muscle, every bone, every breathe I take hurts. Whoever has me, had fun by abusing me. I feel hands slapping my face, trying to wake me. I look to my right and see a dark skinned man with black eyes. He has a gun. It's glittering in the light. Behind him is a window that's tapped with newspaper but the print's too small so I can't read it. I have no idea where I am and what day it is.

"She's all yours." he says and I move my head into the direction he speaks to. Another light starts blending my vision. The light hurts my eyes. I feel my breath getting stuck as I see the figure coming out of the shadow.

"Tanner…" I breathe out, amazed. Blonde short hair and bright green eyes. She has fuller lips, her chin is smaller and she's dressed differently. But it's Tanner. Without a doubt. "How did you get out?" I ask her as she stops across me. My throat hurts. I must've been chocked. I don't remember getting chocked. It feels like I forgot the past hours. I don't know what happened, what they did to me… how I got here. I remember running and getting caught. There was a needle… my head hurts. Thinking hurts… Why is Tanner here?

"I have a lot of friends with even more friends. One call and I was out." she knees across me. Her fingers touch my face and I wince in pain. "I wanted Troy, but you're nearly as good as him. Maybe even a better way to take revenge now that I think of it…"

Revenge. She wants revenge. She wants to take revenge… on me. My thoughts form slowly. It feels like my head is about to explode. "Do you want money?"

She laughs, "Oh no, money is not all that I want…" she examines my face, "What I want is you to feel as much pain as I did when you took him from me. And I am not the only one. Turns out Bolton has more enemies than I knew of. It's going to be lovely when they hear I have you..."

My mind is slowly processing her words. This is about Troy. She wants Troy. This is about his enemies… She wants my husband. The love of my life. Thank God, he isn't here.

"The person I hired to kill you on New Year's Eve sadly wasn't as qualified as I thought. He couldn't finish the job." she says before kicking into my stomach. A wave of pain rushes through my body and I feel tears building in my eyes. "So, I have to do this by myself I guess."

"When are you going to kill me?" I ask her, tasting blood in my mouth. Death seems to be unavoidable for me. I am too weak to try to escape another time. I am too tired to fight. I am so tired...

"Not right away. I need you to suffer first. The others want to have some fun with Troy Bolton's wife as well. There's a long list of people who want to see you first… And then… when you're begging for me to kill you, then I might do you the favour."

* * *

 **A new chapter! Please review and tell what do you think is coming next. :)**

 **xoxo**


	7. Chapter 7

I scream out in pain as I feel another punch in my stomach. This time the punches are stronger, I quickly notice as I taste the iron of my blood again. I spit it out. I stopped begging a long time ago. They don't listen to me anyway. My head hurts, my arms, my legs... my whole body aches, so I surrender myself. I try to not think about why I am here and where that here is. I think of my husband, my daughter and my other family members. I feel another punch in my rips this time and pain starts rushing through my body. I close my eyes and try not to let the pain get to me. I try to surrender… I try.

 _His lips on my cheek is the first thing I notice in the morning. As our lips meet, I open my eyes and look into the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. It's a bright blue sky I see, which is even more beautiful than the actual bright blue sky that New York City has to offer. It's one of those days that we don't have to rush to work like we normally do. Today, since it's Sunday, we allow ourselves to be lazier and get to work an hour later. I return his kiss and wrap my arms around a man I've fallen so quickly in love with, that sometimes I think I'm dreaming. As our tongues start battling, I feel his fingers brushing through my hair. His kisses are like nothing before. It feels like I have never been kissed before. They are full of passion, gratitude, kindness and love he hasn't mentioned towards me yet. I don't blame him. He's not ready for the l-word, yet I already threw it between us. It was so sudden, so unexpected… I let it drop like a bomb. The same bomb that hit me when we met. As he lets go of my lips, I am breathless and feel dizzy at the same time._

 _"Good morning." there's a smile on the lips that used to touch mine._

 _I return his smile, feeling awake and cherished. "Good morning, Mr. Sexmachine." I joke as I stretch out my limbs. I am sore from last night, yet I can feel my heart aching for more already. I am addicted to him. To his kisses, his touch, his smile, his voice, his dominance, his kindness, his protection shield… I love him._

 _His thumb runs over my lips, "I want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life."_

 _I inhale sharply, he may have not said the l-word yet, but boy he can make me feel his love for me so easily. I lace my hand with his free one, before I kiss his knuckles, "Yes, I want that, too."_

 _His blue orbs are clouded for a second and I know immediately that something is bugging him. Yet, he hasn't mentioned anything towards me. He never does. I brush through his silky hair and wonder what the hell I've done to deserve this man. A man that calls me his angel, yet he was the only one who was able to fix my broken wings._

 _He catches my hand and kisses every four knuckles of my left hand. "You know me like no one else does. You know sides of me I've never shown anyone else… You know me."_

 _I bite my lip, unable to gulp down my answer. "And I love every single side of your's."_

 _He closes his eyes and for a second I think he's going to leave me alone in this comfortable bed of his. But as he opens his eyes again there are no clouds, no stormy signs. They are bright blue, full of faith and truth. "You know how I feel about you. There is no need to put a label on it."_

 _I smile, "It's not a label, it's a fact."_

 _"My feelings for you are fact as well." he whispers before kissing me. With his arms around my body, he pulls me closer, until I feel his heartbeat beneath mine. His body heat warms up mine, his shallow breath echoes with mine. I close my eyes and inhale his scent. He smells of warm summer nights and blueberries. He provides me safety without knowing it. He's my safe haven._

He's my safe haven… my safe haven. He's my safe haven. Soon, I'll be back. I'll be back in my safe haven. In my husband's arms and his wonderful smell. Warm summer nights and blueberries…

* * *

My mind is a place they can't reach. A place that only belongs to me. Whatever they say or do to me - they can't reach me there. Pain is a dream. It's not real. This is not real. Pain happens in my head. I am hanging in the air. Big chunky chains are wrapped around my wrists and connected to the ceiling. My muscles are weak. My whole body is screaming in pain. My nerves are going crazy. I feel another punch in my back. I bulk, unable to suppress my screaming. They can't touch me in my own world. I have to be in my own world. Suddenly, I feel an electricity rushing through my body. It echoes through my whole nerve system, making me feel a new level of pain. I can survive this. They think they can kill me. They think they will kill me, but my mind is stronger than my body. My mind has to be stronger. It has to be.

* * *

I try to hold my breath, but my lungs are running out of oxygen. I feel icy cold water surrounding my face as hands hold my head under the water again. It's dilated with chlorine. I can't drink it. I try to keep my eyes close as they burn from the chlorine. They've been torturing me the last… I don't even know how long. But I do know that they enjoy torturing me with icy cold water and sharp trimming knives, cutting me. I have too many cuts on my body to count. They don't bleed a lot, but they hurt as hell! They used me as a punching bag. They even hung me up like one. It's a routine: water boarding, cutting, stabbing, punches. They gave me drugs and adrenaline so I don't pass out. They don't want this game to end, they're enjoying it too much. There were too many hands, too many voices for me to distinguish between. Too many nationalities. Too much pain. There's so much pain… Tanner was right. My husband has a lot of enemies. My last count was twelve. In the past days, I've seen about twelve different persons, letting their anger out on me. So far, Tanner was the only woman. I am cold and hot at the same time. My body is shaking. I have lost track of time. I don't know how long I've been held here. All I know is that I didn't sleep - and that the sun has set two times. The windows are masked with newspaper. The light shone through anyway. I noticed the bright red sky as it mirrored on the water. It means I am here for over 48 hours. Making a total of 72 hours being kidnapped. I survived three days of torture. But I don't know how much longer I can take this. The hand pulls my head out of the water again and I start coughing the water out that started collecting in my lungs. I am tired. I feel dizzy. I haven't eaten. I barely have drunk anything. It's a miracle I am still alive. But I can't fight any longer.

"Please stop!" I beg coughing. My voice is weak, it's not louder than a whisper. I lost my voice because I screamed so much in the last days. I screamed in pain. I begged too much in the last days. I prayed. My lungs burn from the chlorine. Breathing hurts. Seeing hurts. My ears hurt so badly. This tub with water is the worst. Sometimes I don't even have time to catch some air. Sometimes I am under water for more than a minute. Sometimes I feel like passing out. But I don't. I stay awake because of the adrenaline. I stay awake to see everything they do to me. Everything they do… The dark skinned man is doing the torture this time. It's the one from the day I met Tanner. I haven't seen her again. I don't know where she is. Whatever she has against him, it's working. He's doing everything she asks him to. This way she hasn't touched me yet. In a way I am glad, because I know she'll kill me. I can't do this any longer. My body is shaking, my skin is hot, my face is cold. My lips are blue. My insides burn from the alcohol they gave me. I am drunk, feeling hot and cold. Everything inside of me hurts. My vision is blurry from the chlorine and the many fists that hit my face. I barely see anything. It's a blur. Everything that happens to me is a blur. Except for the pain. The pain is always there, mercilessly. I am so weak… I won't survive any longer. The dark skinned man pulls my head back by pulling on my hair. He places a piece of thin cloth on my face and I know what's coming next: waterboarding. The worst way to torture a person. It feels like drowning. It feels like being on the edge of dying. Every. Single. Time.

Suddenly, I see the door slamming open. I see figures in uniforms storming in, holding something black, probably guns. They shoot the dark skinned man next to me as he aims for them with his gun. I still don't know his name. His lifeless body falls to the ground next to me. All men start spreading around in the room. They look like bees chasing something. It's so strange, so funny… so mesmerizing. I'd be laughing if I weren't in so much pain.

A brown haired man with pale green eyes knees down beside me. He seems so awake… So full of life. I try reading his lips. I didn't hear what he said. I'm not even sure if he spoke English. I can't hear since the last time they cut me with the knives and hit me afterwards. My head crashed against the wall and ever since then… there's silence. I don't hear anything. It's good to hear nothing. That way I haven't been able to hear my cries. But I still feel so much pain. I blink, not sure if I am hallucinating this rescue or if this is really happening. My mind has played a lot of tricks on me in the last days. I can't distinguish between reality and fantasy. I feel him opening the cable ties around my wrists. It feels so good. He smells of shower gel. I can't smell when I am hallucinating, can I? His fingers brush through my wet hair and I focus on his lips. He says everything's going to be fine. I shake my head. How can I signalise him that I don't hear anything? The man with the pale green eyes turns his head around. Someone is talking to him. But I don't see the person. I barely see anything. I try to look beside him. I blink as I see a blurry mess. Everything's blurry to me. I can only see in short distance. There's another figure standing in what looks like the doorway, I notice as I squeeze my eyes. Yes, it's a person and it's a doorway… I think. God, my head hurts so much. Thinking and guessing hurts so much… The figure rushes over to me without me being able to blink once more. I wince and want to run. It's my first instinct. It's all I've been doing the last days. I ran. I protected myself. I prayed. And I gave up. The figure knees down beside the green eyed man, but it's still too blurry. I don't even see a face. I move my head a little to the left, feeling pain rushing through my body. I want to scream, but I can't. I lost my voice. I have no voice. My body stopped listening to me days ago. I feel my heart racing in my chest as my eyes slowly recognise the person. It takes my brain a few seconds to process what I'm seeing. I can see dark blue orbs sparkling at me and I wish I could say something. Or smile. I wish I was strong enough to react to what I'm seeing. But I'm not. His hands reach out to touch my face and I feel my lips shaking. It's the first time in three days that I don't wince. It's the first time I am not afraid of a touch. His touch. Troy… my husband. I would never forget how he looks like. Even with my kind of vision he is the most beautiful man. His hands touch my face and I feel tears building in my eyes. It hurts so much. Everything hurts. Being alive hurts so much that I already wished I'd be dead. His lips say something to me but I can't hear him. All I hear is silence and for the first time in two days silence is not welcomed by me.

Suddenly my body starts shaking again and I feel my vision going black.

* * *

My eyes are wide open as I feel a burning pain rushing through my body. Something is on my face I notice as I feel pressure. It's easier for me to breathe. My vision is blurry and my body shakes as we hit a bump. A sharp pain goes through my body. I want to cry but I can't. I have no voice. I am in an ambulance car. I try to see something but there's nothing I can identify. It's a blur. Everything's a blur. It's always a blur... Suddenly I feel someone squeezing my hand and I know he is here. I am not alone. I am safe. I am alive.

* * *

I slowly open my eyes, feeling pain in my head and body. It's so much pain... such an excruciating pain. It's always there and it's always unbearable. I still don't hear anything I notice as my vision sees a heart monitor. There should be a beeping sound. I am in a hospital. Laying in a hospital bed. My lungs still burn. Every single cell in my body is screaming in pain. I notice there's a button placed in my right hand and it push it. I wince from the pain and my shift wakes the body that's resting on me. My vision is still blurry. My eyes focus on the chestnut brown coloured haired head that lifts. The headache is still strong. My eyes hurt. My lungs are burning and I feel pressure every time I take a breath. There is a pulsing pain in my mid body. Everything hurts. My hands, my feet, my legs, my arms, my stomach, my head… There's nothing that doesn't hurt. Nothing.

I feel my heart skipping a beat as dark blue orbs are looking at me. They look tired and grateful. And full of love. His eyes are the only thing I can see clearly. The rest is a blur. I can see his eyes watering, filling with tears. He's crying. There is no reason to cry. I am alive. I am safe. I survived.

I try to lift my hand, but my body protests with strong pain. I can't even touch my husband. I can't talk to him. I can't hear him. I can't touch him. All I can do is stare at him.

I feel so helpless. I look down at his lips and I realise that he has been talking to me. His lips move so fast that I can't read them. I frown, feeling pain from the muscles in my face. Even a face expression hurts. He must've seen my face expression as he rises. I can see the black shirt that he's wearing. Am I still in Rio? I wish I could see any furniture in the room, but I can't. Everything is a blur. It's so hard to even see so little. It's exhausting. I see his eyes again once he is seated. They are so blue... his lips say something again. But it's too fast. Suddenly he holds a piece of paper in front of my eyes. I can see his curly handwriting asking me if I can hear him. I shake my head, trying to say something. My jaw hurts so much and my voice is still gone. I shake my head. The paper disappears for a second before I see his handwriting again. _Can you see me clearly? Blink once for yes and twice for no. Don't move too much._

I blink twice.

He nods before I see his handwriting again. _You are in a hospital in 's morphine. Push the button in your right hand. It will help with the pain._

I try to push the button but I am too weak. And it hurts so much. Every tiny movement hurts so much. I can feel how every single muscle, every single nerve is connected in my body. From the tip of my right hand's nail bed to the tip of my left foot. I can feel everything inside of me screaming in pain. So much pain... Suddenly I feel his thumb on mine, pushing the button with me and for me. It doesn't take long for the pain to become a bit easier. I think the last time I pushed it I didn't press hard enough. The morphine works. Not as good as it should, but it works…

I wish I could say something to him. I need to thank him. I open my mouth but stop as I feel the pain in my jaw again. A second later I see handwriting in front of me.

 _Don't move too much. Don't try to talk. Try to sleep._

How long have I been here? What day is it? What time is it? There are so many questions running through my mind but I stop thinking as I see his lips shaking. My glance meets his again. His eyes are filled with water. I feel my heart bursting inside of me. Fuck. I close my eyes. I can't see him in pain. It hurts me more than the actual pain I am feeling. Physical pain is something I can deal with, but emotional pain is a lot harder… I didn't want this to happen. Not to him. Seeing me like this tears him apart - more than words from me ever could. This is our hardest times. Our toughest times. I open my eyes and let the tears roll down my cheeks. They burn on my skin. I can feel the saltiness from the tears burning in the many cuts on my skin. In silence I cry. Not because of the pain I am feeling, but because of my husband's pain.

* * *

 **A new chapter! I hope you enjoyed reading it. Please review!**

 **Xoxo**


	8. Chapter 8

I watch my husband unlocking the front door of our home. I feel exhausted, although I did sleep a bit on the flight from Rio de Janeiro to London. I spent a whole week in Rio, although I know I should have stayed longer but I wanted to go home. The medication I got prescribed from Dr. Santos made me sleepy, but the pain made it almost impossible to fall asleep properly. It's been seven days since they freed me from the kidnappers. From Tanner's gang. I don't know what's happened to her and the others. I don't know how they were able to find me. No one has informed me about it. Not even my husband. I have so many questions, but I am afraid of the answers. It's a chilly May evening. I pull Troy's cardigan that I'm wearing tighter around my body. I feel the pain kicking in immediately. My body is sore, my bones bruised, my muscles are hurting and my skin's covered in slowly healing cuts and hematoma. I feel every single muscle aching with every movement I make, every cut gets torn open. I feel everything inside of me protesting. But I am home. Safe.

I step into our house and take off my moccasins. My feet are bruised and swollen. I'm wearing a light washed boyfriend cut jeans and one of Troy's v-cut t-shirts, which I've tucked in a bit. I didn't want any tightness to choke me. I've been through that too much in the last few days. I look exactly how I feel: a disaster. The smell of peonies starts filling my nostrils and I know for sure that I am home. I am not imagining being here as I did in Rio. I am home.

Automatically, I walk into the living room slowly making my way through the foyer. The peonies which are standing on the round table have died. The beautiful peonies are hanging lifelessly in the vase. The last time I was here they were full of life. Carefully, I take step after step as I reach the living room. I bite my lip so hard that it starts bleeding, but I don't want to scream as pain rushes through me. I've screamed too much. My throat hurts. Every single movement hurts. Every breath hurts, but that's normal when you have bruised rips. I can't imagine how Troy survived this pain. It's horrible. Unbearable.

Yet it is only one signal of many which show me that I am alive. That I survived. All eyes are on me as I reach the couch in the living room. My vision is blurry, my eyes are filled with blood, which only slowly clears up. Several veins burst in my eyes, making it very hard for me to see in distance. And I have two black eyes. My lips have cracked open. My face is covered in bruises, my jaw hurts. I look horrible. I feel horrible. I don't hear what they say, but I can see their lips moving. The tympanum on my right ear is ripped and on the left it's almost ripped. I don't hear them as clearly as I once did, but Dr. Santos said it would heal in a couple of days. It would go back to normality. Normality… it seems miles away.

I stop in front of the couch and try very hard to scan the figures in front of me, trying to find out who is here. I see Ryan, Lucas' green eyes, Miley's long dark blonde hair, Kelsi's small figure and stop at the last two persons. They are women I notice, but it's too hard for me to see them clearly. I feel the headache getting stronger. My body is protesting, demanding rest. I see another pair of bright green eyes and I know it's Diana, my mother-in-law. Next to her I recognize my husband's blue eyes and I know it's his sister, Shailene. They all waited for me to come home. They all stare at me with wide eyes and I know why. I look like I came straight out of hell. Which I did.

Suddenly, my step-brother raises and rushes over to me. I suppress the feeling to run away or yell for help, but I wince anyway. He's my family and I am afraid of him. Afraid of his movements. Afraid of his touch. Afraid of what's next. He stops in front of me and places his hands on my shoulder blades. There's pain going through my whole body. Every single nerve reacts with pain. I look into his light blue eyes and notice they are filled with tears. I can't respond. I lost my voice from crying for help as loudly as I could - and as long as I could. I am a wreck. But I am alive.

As his arms embrace my body, I feel pain running like lightning through my veins and somehow a loud cry escapes my lungs. It's a deep excruciating sound that my husband has heard a lot from me in the last week. The pain shakes my body, the loud cry burns in my lungs. But I don't share a tear. Because I cried too much in the last couple of days. It's unbearable. I wince as he lets me go abruptly and feel my heart pumping in my chest as the waves of pain slowly but steadily fade. I see guilt in the eyes of my step-brother and I watch his mouth forming words. I think he's apologizing and saying how thankful he is that I am alive. I wish I could respond. But I can't. Even smiling hurts.

I don't know how to react towards my family. I can see their sorrow - well it's what I imagine they look like. I don't really see much of them. I feel humiliated. My family shouldn't face this kind of pain. They shouldn't hear or see it. I wish I could say something, but every single cell in my body responds with pain even if I just breath. Everything hurts. All I feel is pain. The medication Dr. Santos gave me helps taking of the edge of some painful parts in my body, but other's… other's hurt mercilessly. I don't want to sit next to them on the couch. Frankly, I think sitting would hurt more than standing. I can't even communicate with them properly. All they could do is stare at me and all I could do is stare back. It would be useless and painful for all of us.

I turn around and see my blurry husband's body making it's way over to me. He's the only one I let touch me. He knows where it hurts the most. He knows where it hurts slightly less. He stops next to me and I see him talking to the rest family members. His voice is more quite than a whisper, but I read from his lips that he's explaining the situation. He's explaining my appearance. I don't look at my family, my eyes are focused on his lips. I don't want to see their reaction, I mean I couldn't see it even if I wanted to. With all my willpower I grab his hands and watch his lips stop talking. His dark blue orbs stare into mine and I signalize him what I want. I want to see our daughter. I need to see Adaline.

He nods at me and I watch his lips form the word okay before his eyes move back to our family. He talks too fast for me to read his lips but I follow him as he starts walking. There's no need for words between us. It's our bond.

He walks slowly, but I walk slower. I feel like I am walking on a thousand needles while the rest of my body burns like fire. My mouth is dry, my lungs burn with every breath I take. It feels like breathing is killing me. But I remind myself that dying feels otherwise. This… this is how it feels like to be alive. His grey shirt is my orientation. Everything else is blurry. I follow my husband through the dinning room and see something that looks like food. I am not hungry. I couldn't even chew if I wanted to. My jaw hurts too much. Walking around the kitchen island, I understand where my daughter is. Upstairs. I stop as I see the staircase. Eight steps. My body responds with shaking, but my mind is stronger.

My husband turns around and I see his blue eyes. Even with my kind of vision I still see them clearly. He knows that this is a herculean task for me. He knows I'll feel more pain that I am able to bear. His eyes find mine and I focus on his lips. He offers to take her downstairs. I look up into his eyes and try to shake my head. It just hurts so much. I don't want him to wake her up if she's sleeping. Maybe it's good she doesn't get to see her mother in such a state. My eyes move down again and I see him offering his help. I take his left hand and let my right hand wrap around the banister. I'm going to do this. I can take eight steps. I will take eight steps. Rising my foot, I feel my weight suddenly shifting to the left side of my body. Every single muscle clenches, responses with a kind of pain I didn't expect. My lungs burn and I feel a cry getting stuck in my gullet. I place the right foot on the first step. I'm half-way through. I feel Troy's tight grip on my left hand as I raise my left foot, shifting my body weight to the right side. This time the cry escapes my mouth. One step is taken. Seven more to do. My head is pulsing as I rise my right foot. One more loud painful cry escapes my lungs. One and a half steps. I have six and a half to go. I can do this. I will do this, I tell myself as I rise my left foot. Suddenly, I feel a sharp pain in my back as my weight shifts slightly forward. It's the strongest pain yet. I bite my lip until I taste the iron of my blood. I don't want to wake my daughter. She doesn't have to see me this way. I feel Troy's other hand on my shoulder blades, trying to support me as I take another step. There's not a single cell in my body that's healed. Everything burns, every cut tears open with every step I take. Every bruised rip, every hematoma pulses in pain until my blurry vision darkens. My body wants me to stop. It needs rest. But I am already half-way through. I have only four more steps. I can do four more steps before taking a break. I don't want to start from the beginning. I don't want to stop now. I have to see my daughter. With clenched teeth, suppressed cries and an unbearable amount of pain I take the last four steps before I lean against my husband, shifting my weight slightly forward. I am exhausted and in pain. But I can't stop now. I feel my husbands lips on my forehead and it feels like the ache in my head has healed. He gives me strength. He keeps me safe.

We stay in this position for a couple of minutes until I feel slightly better and slowly we walk down the hallway. Mercilessly, I feel the pain rushing through my body like lightning without ever stopping. There is no end to this nightmare, yet it ended a few days ago. The medication I got prescribed doesn't help as much as it should and I'm going to have to take them for at least a few days - until then I am not able to nourish my daughter. Troy told me that the doctors wanted to put me into a coma. On days like this I wish he would have let them. Because just like they said, my pain will be strong. A ten on the scale for the next few weeks. A ten... I can handle that if only I am able to see my daughter. We stop in front of our open bedroom door and I see her white moses basket next to the bed. She slept in our bedroom while we were away. Something like excitement rushes through me and I have the courage to take faster steps towards her. It's a whole new feeling, something I haven't felt before. Troy moves the armchair to the moses basket, to give me somewhere to sit. I ignore the sharp pain and force myself to suppress the cries of pain until I reach her. My fingers wrap around the basket as my eyes try to focus. I see my baby sleeping, her tiny chest lifting and sinking regularly. She's wearing a white body and a pastel pink cap. In the past days she hasn't grown much, but I do notice a difference. I let my eyes get drunk in what I see: My chin, Troy's cheekbones, his nose, my eyebrows and lashes, her long curly chestnut colored hair… her long body. I feel a mixture of emotions rushing through my body. It feels weird and unfamiliar. Waves of emotions start rushing through me. Hope, gratitude and lots of love. An overwhelming amount of love.

I'm home. I came back to you. I'm here… I'm home. I wish I could tell her that. I can't believe she's already six weeks old. I can't believe I felt nothing when I looked at her. At Troy's and mine perfect creation. She's beautiful inside and out. She's my second love. After her daddy.

Suddenly, I feel my vision getting more blurry and I pray to god that I don't pass out. But the blurriness disappears before appearing again. This time stronger. I feel wetness rolling down, burning my skin. I am crying. I haven't cried in the last six days. Ever since Troy found me, I haven't cried. And now… Now all these emotions are coming back to me, hitting me with no warning. Joy, love, hope, gratitude… all covered in tears. I start sobbing and cry without stopping. Everything that happened to me, it suddenly hits me. Among that I realize that my daughter almost would have been a half-orphan. I was so close to dying…

But now I'm home. With my family. I let the tears fall, my eyes resting on my daughter as I sit down on the arm chair. Just like I expected, sitting hurts more than standing, but my body is too weak to stand right now. And I don't want to stop looking at my sleeping beauty. I don't dare to touch her, since I don't want to wake her up. I'd scare her, I know. I scared the other family members, but not my husband. What he felt when he saw me was love, gratitude and anger. But not fear. Not shock… nothing like this. I will never forget his look.

Suddenly, my husband next to me moves and I grab his hand to stop him. I think I even hurt him that's how tight my grip is. My eyes find his and I beg him to not leave me. I can't be without him. It's my biggest fear - now bigger than ever. I feel chills going down my spine even when the thought crosses my mind. His features relaxes and I watch his lips form the answer. He wants to run me a hot bath. He promises me that he's going to be back. A bath... he'll be back shortly. He'll be back... I respond by letting his hand go before my focus gets back on Adaline. I will never get sick of staring at her. Suddenly she moves her head to the other side and for a moment I pipe down, afraid she's going to wake up. But she continues being fast asleep. Thank God.

For minutes I stare at her until I feel Troy's hand on the tip of my left shoulder. It's one of those parts of my body which hurt slightly less than others. I raise my head to meet his face, my vision still blurry and my tears still rolling. I know he wants to hold me right now, but we both know it'd be too much pain and I end up fighting against it more than actually enjoying his embrace. My eyes focus his lips again. The bath is ready. I rise from the chair as slowly as I can, biting as I suppress a cry again. I want her to sleep.

Taking his hand, I walk into the master bathroom. Nothing has changed in here. The warm floor heating makes the needles I feel like walking on a bit more bearable. I notice the hot steam clashing against my dry cracked lips right away. There's the smell of lavender and camomile hanging in the air. There's an antiseptic solution, bandages for my cuts and salve on the sink for afterwards. Soft fluffy towels and a dressing gown are prepared as well. Troy picked out some cotton underwear and one of his black v-cut t-shirts for me to change into afterwards. My eyes stop at the full tub. Water… the last time I came into contact with water I screamed in panic. Before that I screamed in fear as I looked straight into death's eyes. I was so sure I'd be dying whenever they held my head under water or did waterboarding to me. I feel goosebumps covering my skin as the memory comes back. Water… I'm about to get into contact with water. I close my eyes and take a breath, I am alive. I survived. I'm safe. Next to the tub, on the window sill are a cup of tea, a glass of water and some more pills for tonight. He has thought of everything. I have no idea how he can handle all of this - how he can handle me. I am a mess. An emotional and physical write-off.

I turn around and watch my husband closing the door. Of course he doesn't want her to hear the cries coming in the next few minutes. I prepare myself emotionally for what's coming next. Troy stops in front of me, close enough for me to read his lips. He wants to undress me. Slowly, he helps me out of his beige cardigan and I can't suppress the cries. As hard as I try, I can't. Loudly, I cry out in pain as he helps my left arm out of the cardigan. My rips, my breasts, my elbow, my wrist… my flesh. Everything responds with a sharp pain so strong, that I almost see black. As my left arm is freed from the cardigan, I feel the weight of the hanging sleeve, causing pain in the right side of my body. Normally, I wouldn't feel anything but right now… everything's in pain. He stops, his eyes staring deeply into mine. He doesn't want to hurt me the way he is now. I wish I could tell him it's okay. I wish I could tell him that. Softly, he presses his forehead against mine and I feel him inhaling. He's suffering not less than me. I am in physical pain - he is in emotional pain. For minutes we stand in this position, until the pain in me has quite down a bit. He lifts his head, his eyes in tears. I feel my heart breaking. He hates it. But he's the only one who can do that to me. I watch his lips asking me if we can go on and I nod. He doesn't ask me if I am alright because he knows I won't be in the next few days. I start screaming in pain again as he slowly, but steadily strips down the other sleeve of his cardigan. He let's the clothing piece drop to the floor. I wine, my body shaking a bit. I need a break. I watch his body stiffen before relaxing again. He's helpless. He doesn't know how to handle the state his wife is at. I wish I'd be in less pain, so it'd be less painful for him. I hate seeing him in pain. Our eyes meet and I wish I could tell him that I love him. That I could say anything. But all I can do is look at him. It's all my body lets me without protesting too much. My exposed arms are covered in hematoma and cuts. Some are still open, others are starting to heal. Dr. Santos said that I could be lucky and have no scars. Luck is something I stopped believing in.

I watch my husband asking me to raise my arms above my head. I bite my lip, keeping my arms down. I can't. I can't raise my arms. I can't feel that pain again. I remember not much from the last time but before I passed out I screamed and winced, crying when Dr. Santos examined me. My stomach ached, my diaphragm hurt, my lungs burned and my rips tore my chest apart. My shoulders pulsed from pain, the pain in my neck gave me a massive headache. It was a horrible pain. Like nothing before. I feel my vision getting more blurry again and I know that I am crying once more as the cool salty tear burns down my cheeks. I can't feel that pain again. It's too much. It's too much…

I close my eyes, trying to calm down and emotionally get ready. I have to. There's no other way. As I open my eyes, I see the blurry figure of my husband doing something at the sink. He turns around and walks back to me. Holding up his right hand, I see what he wants to do. With scissors, he's going to cut me out of his shirt. My eyes widen as I see the silver thing. Scissors… sharp… cutting… Automatically, I take a step back in horror. My heart starts beating faster and I feel a panic attack coming. Scissors… he's holding scissors.

Noticing my horror, my husband takes his hand down and puts the scissors on the window sill next to my medication. He comes over to me, his hands on my cheeks, his eyes staring into mine. His lips tell me that this is the only way and that he'd be careful. He'd take as much time as I need. Horrified my vision moves over to the window sill. The scissors are glittering in the light. I look back at my husband. If I can't trust him, there's no one else I can. He asks for my permission and I blink. He reaches out for the scissors and I feel panic overcoming me as he slides the silver scissors under the right sleeve of his shirt. Slowly, he cuts once, then twice. His hands are strong and steady, while I am shaking as he cuts a third time, cutting the sleeve now completely open. The fabric falls apart, freeing my right breast. Exposing more damage on my body. The steam clashes against my boob, it's warm and soft. The smell calms me a little, yet I'd have to take medication in order to get at least an hour of sleep. I watch my husband walking around me before he cuts open the left sleeve. I close my eyes and bite on my lip, trying to stop my body from shaking and my mind from getting a panic attack. It's my husband. Not the kidnapper. I am safe. I am home. I am with the ones I love. He cuts open the left sleeve and the fabric falls open, both sides falling down but stopping at the jeans. I watch his eyes resting on my body and I know what he thinks, I know how angry he is… His eyes tell me everything. My heart beats heavily in my chest, my arms and stomach is shaking. Dark bruises, bruises which are older than a few days are covering my stomach. Dr. Santos said it could be possible that the damage on my uterus is so badly, that Troy and I couldn't have more children. Out of all news, this was the worst. Children… we always wanted a big family.

He places the scissors back on the window sill, before his fingers open the button of my jeans. Along with his shirt it glides down my legs almost painlessly. I barely have eaten anything in the last four days and I feel weak and bony thin. I'm guessing I look like that as well. I don't think a lot has changed since the last time I saw myself in the mirror. The bruises, the many cuts on my legs and arms… they couldn't have changed in the last 24 hours. His fingers hook into my underwear and I bite my lip as I feel the pressure on my hips. Dr. Santos told me that my hip was bruised the most. Out of all my bones, my hips got it the worst. I guessed it when it happened, but I prayed it wouldn't be true. But the kicks, the pushes… there was no way there could have been less damage. Bending down, he slowly and carefully glides down my cotton panties until my ankles and I wince at every single centimeter.

I know what's coming next. I have to step out my jeans and panties. I have to raise my legs again. My husband raises until his eyes meet mine. His eyes are filled with more pain than I feel. I'd take even more pain if only he felt none of it. I want to raise my hand and fondle his cheek. I want to tell him I love him. I want to tell him he's being stronger than I could ever be. I want to tell him so much. But all I can do is stare at him and hope he gets the message - hope that he understands me without words. His lips meet my forehead as if he wants me to know I'm doing a good job so far. As his eyes meet mine again, I take his hands. Screaming out the pain I feel, I raise first one, then the other leg, stepping out of my clothes. I'm naked, shaking and I have never felt more vulnerable. Not even when the doctors had to examine me. The warmth of the steam doesn't warm my cold body enough. Carefully, I turn around and look at the floor length mirror across me. I don't see much, but it feel like a stranger's staring back at me. Someone who has been tortured, abused in the most horrific ways. Someone who survived this without believing she could. I see the many cuts all over my body: My arms, my breasts, my stomach, my legs, my feet… my sex is the only part of my body that has been untouched. This time it wasn't sexual abuse. No, this time it was worse. The many hematoma make look some cuts worse than others. Some, maybe a handful, have started to heal. Dr. Santos said I should take baths to calm my nerving system, change bandages and take my medication. He said that the healing process is not going to be easy. I think it was his way saying of you're going to be in a hell lot of pain. But I survived.

I turn around and try to turn my head to see my backside. I can only bear the pain in my neck for a few seconds, but what I see makes me loose my breath. There are dark lilac hematoma all over my back and butt, cuts on my legs, shoulder blades and on the sides of my hips. The hematoma have different sizes and colors. My wrists are bruised from the ties which were around them. I take a step closer to the mirror and look at my face properly. My face is as colorful as the rainbow: hematoma and cracky lips. I see why my jaw hurts so much - my chin is bright green. My eyes are filled with blood, my dark brown orbs look lifeless. But I'm not lifeless. I am alive. I survived.

I see my husband standing next to me. He's dressed in dark blue jeans and a grey shirt. He looks incredibly strong. He's my rock. He's my everything.

I turn around and take his hand as he leads me to the tub. The next herculean challenge: getting into the tub. It means raising my legs again. It means pain… a big amount of pain. I stop in front of the tub, my fingers and legs shaking. More pain. I have to face more pain. My husband comes back into my vision. I can do this. I can raise my legs and get into that tub. It's going to be good for me. I'm going to get a bit more relaxed. I am home. I am safe. I am with the ones I love. With the help of my husband's hands I slowly raise my leg and get into the water in the tub. I bite my lip, letting the cry getting stuck in my gullet. Intensifying my grip on his hands, I raise the other leg until both are covered in warm water. My feet react to the water with a burn, but it's not stronger than I am now used to. My legs however respond to the water quite well. The many open cuts burn, but just like my feet I am okay with the pain. It's the kind of pain I can deal with, without feeling the need to scream. I am standing in water and I feel no horror. There's no panic attack. I am okay. I can do this. I will do this. Slowly, I bent down until I lay in the tub. A cushion against my head eases the pain in my shoulders and neck. I close my eyes and a sound of almost satisfaction leaves my lungs as I stretch out my legs. My body burns, but my lungs feel somehow better. Probably because of the hot steam, it eases the dry burn in my lungs. I rub my lips against each other, feeling my stiff jaw relaxing and my cracky lips getting softer. The pain I felt to get me to this was worth it. Even the smallest bit of relaxation is worth it. Any ease of this constant pain. The many bubbles cover most parts of my body. The last time I lay in this tub I was heavily pregnant, now I am heavily damaged. I open my eyes and stare into teary bright blue orbs. He's grateful I went through this pain to get in the tub as well. I feel my eyes getting blurry, as I mimic him. How much I love this man. How grateful I am to have him as my partner in life. I watch him getting seated on the floor, right next to the tub. With his left shoulder he leans against the free standing tub, his eyes not leaving mine for a second. His left hand reaches out and I lace my fingers with his as they touch the water. It's the highest I can raise my arms. Our wedding bands are sparkling in the water - I'm so glad they didn't take my rings from me. It was all I held on to. His fingers embracing mine, his lips touching my forehead… more intimacy is impossible for me right now. It's all I can give him. He tells me he loves me and I force myself to open my jaw. Maybe I have my voice back. He shakes his head, quickly telling me to stop trying so hard and that he knows I love him, too. I'm so glad he knows that. I'm incredibly grateful to have him. I close my eyes again and lean against the cushion, feeling the tears running down my cheeks. For the first time in four days I don't cry because of unbearable pain, I cry because of gratitude. I let the hot tears roll down my cheeks. There's no need to fight happy tears. Suddenly, I feel fingers running through my hair and I open my eyes. His head is resting on the edge of the tub, his eyes focused on me. I think there's a smile on his lips, but I can only guess as his eyes are the only thing I see clearly. With his fingers, he slowly brushes through my curls. He looks like he's feeling the same gratitude as me. I allow myself to get lost in his eyes, let him take away my pain for a moment or two. Being with him, knowing our daughter sleeps safely in our room… it's all I need. It's all I want.

Suddenly, his head swings around. I follow his glance and see a tall toned figure standing at the door. Long hair is falling loosely on her shoulders. I don't know who it is. I see Troy's jawline moving and I know he's talking to the person. I try to focus more on the person until I see a glimpse of green in her face. It's Diana. Troy's mother is talking to him.

Is something wrong with Adaline? Is she awake? What's going on? As my husband's rises from the floor, I pull his hand as strongly as I can without screaming out in pain. His head swings around. Diana asked him if they should pay or go to bones. I frown, that doesn't make sense. He's talking too fast. I pull again, hoping he understands me. He repeats. Diana asked him if they should stay or go home. Now that makes more sense to me. He reads in my eyes that I want someone to stay - I don't really care who. But I want to know Adaline's taking care off properly as her parents both need sleep. Given the three pills on the window sill, I might even have a chance. His head swings around and he responses to his mother. She nods, before leaving us alone. I know he hasn't asked her. My guess is Lucas and Miley. Luc will have an open ear for his brother while Miley's going to take care of Adaline. She's doing really good with her. At least that's what Troy told me. She watched her the days I was held in the Brazilian Slums. I feel a shiver going down my spine.

His head swings around again and his free hand reaches out next to me. Holding the teacup in front of me, I take a sip of the tea. Raspberry tea. My favorite. The fluid is not too hot for my gullet, it helps with the dryness. I take another sip. His words form the names Lucas and Miley. Just like I expected. I try to nod, but my neck hurts a bit too much. I lean back against the cushion again, enjoying the warmth of the water. I don't want to think about getting out of this tub just yet. His eyes are full of love as I look at him. Externally, I am my ugliest and all my husband feels is love for me. I wish I could return his feelings in a way he understands. I bent my left elbow, feeling a singing pain - kind of like a gong sound - as I move our laced fingers to my heart. The pain in my elbows continues, fading slowly. His dark blue orbs light up a little and I know without words that he got the message. It's all I wanted.

His lips form the words everlasting love, voicing my feelings for him. We continue staring at each other for minutes. His features are soft and not tensed as they were before we got home. His teeth are no longer clenching, his brows no longer worried. The wrinkles on his forehead have disappeared. He's relaxing. Just like me.

I watch his head swinging around again and I follow his glance, expecting to see his mother once more. Instead I see long blonde waves and sharp green eyes. Miley and Lucas. They say something to Troy before both pairs of eyes look at me. Miley smiles at me while Lucas is horrified by my appearance. I look like I should be dead. But I'm alive.

I frown as I notice I can see their faces. I can see their noses, cheeks, eyes, lips, brows, face-shapes, hair… My vision is getting better! I can see! I can see them! I see them! I pull on Troy's hand and he listens to my silent cry. His head swings around, his lips asking me something. I look at him before looking at Lucas and Miley again. He frowns not understanding me for the first time. I look at him again before nodding towards Lucas and Miley. The face he makes when he finally understands me is priceless. I can see clearly for the first time in six days. I can see clearly!

His head swings around and his lips move fast, before curling into a smile. He told them that I can see them. I'm getting better. I'm going into the right direction.

I look at them and they both smile. Miley's smile is filled with gratitude while Lucas'… his mind starts imagining what I've been through. It's unavoidable to not start imaging what I've been through when you look at me. I am marked by the kidnapers. I have the name abuse written all over my body. Among with pain and horror. Again, I'm an emotional write-off. And it takes time to repair that.

Lucas and Miley leave us to ourselves. I can see Troy asking me whether or not I want to get out. The water starts to get cold and I blink. Yes. I have to get out. He unlaces his fingers and I watch him grabbing the big fluffy towel. He places it on his right shoulder before offering me his hands to help me rise. I take them and slowly, but carefully I rise to my feet. Without a single scream. He wraps the towel around my body without making me rise my arms too much, I wince and bite my lip as the pain kicks in again. The warm water can only do so much. Resting the palm of my hands on his shoulders, Troy asks me to rise one leg and I do so, wincing in pain once more. First one leg, then the other one. It's less painful then getting into the tub, but that doesn't mean I didn't feel the need to scream. It was just easier to suppress it. With the smaller towel, he softly squeezes out the water in the tips of my hair. Even the roots of my hair hurt me. Parting my hair in three parts, he braids it before securing it with an hair tie. Next he's going to paddle my body dry. I try to stand still while I scream out of pain and my body responds with shaking and a burning, sharp, pulsing pain as his hands paddle dry me. He tries to do it quickly, to spare me as much pain as possible. Once I am dry and the pain has become bearable again, he starts putting antiseptic solution on the hematoma with a cotton pad. I wince at every touch as it echoes through my body. It takes him about five minutes and I watch him. Seeing where he's going to touch me next, makes the pain come in not as mercilessly as I expected. I know what's going to hurt next. I know what's coming. That helps. He starts putting salve on the many still open cuts before placing bandages on it. First on the front side of my body, then on the back. He's taking care of me. He's doing the best he can while I scream out in pain and shake under his touch. He rises from his knees behind me as he's finished. He gets the glass of water and the pills. It's time to take the medication. Three pills, I see as I see them in his palm. One's for sleep, two for the pain. I open my mouth and he places them on my tongue before handing me the water glass. One by one, I gulp them down before giving him the glass back. Troy places the glass next to the sink before fetching his black shirt. It has a v-cut in the front. I close my eyes and whine. I have to raise my arms this time. It's the only way. As I open my eyes again my husband has bend down to my surprise. He's stretching the v-cut as much as possible, so I can step into the opening. Resting my hands on his shoulders, I step into the shirt. Pain rushes through my body but I refuse to scream. He pulls the shirt up my body and to my surprise, I fit through the opening without any problems. He stops at my breasts and under a merciless pain I lift my arms to get them through the short sleeves. It's a quick movement, but a long lasting pain. Nevertheless, I am wearing a black shirt now. He holds up my cotton panties. Last time to raise my legs. Biting my lip, I step into the panties and he pulls them up for me. Lightly, he rests his hands on my shoulders before kissing my forehead. Bending forward, he presses his forehead against mine. I'm dressed. I'm ready for bed. I stare into his blue eyes before kissing him carefully. I catch him in surprise, I notice as he doesn't return my kiss at first. I ignore the pain in my jaw, my abs, my neck and shoulders. Kissing him hurts. Physically, but I want to kiss my husband without feeling the need to scream out in pain. He returns my kiss, keeping it soft and careful. As he lets go, his eyes are full of love and I even get a glimpse of his sexual desire for me. I am looking my worst and my husband still wants me. He's simply incredible.

There's a smile on his lips before he says we should go to bed. I take his hand and we walk out of the bathroom. Adaline's still sleeping in her bed. We stop in front of the Hästens bed, it's still made. I can't pull back the blanket, I can't plump the pillow up. I can't do anything but watch my husband do everything for me. I thank god for choosing such a tall bed, it means I don't have to shift my weight so much. It means less pain. It means more comfort, I notice as I lay down in the bed. And what comfort… it feels like an eternity since I last slept in my bed. It feels so good, yet I'm in pain. But I can deal with that pain. It's not worse than standing or sitting. I watch my husband walking into our closet before I rest my head on the pillow. I already start feeling a bit sleepy. The medication cocktail is working. Seconds later my husband walks back to the bed, dressed in only his black Armani briefs. He looks breathtaking. Absolutely stunning. And he's mine. He climbs into the bed next to me and I notice how tired he is out of the sudden. The last couple of days have not been easy for both of us. But we're together. Safe. Home.

I turn my head around, feeling almost no pain to my surprise. I stare into his tired eyes and I know he will only go to sleep once I am fast asleep. I wish I could tell him that it's okay to fall asleep before me. I wish I could tell him that I am safe. His fingers run through my hair as he yawns. He's still so worried. He shouldn't worry about me. Not anymore. I am safe. With him. He lips form the words sweet dreams my angel and I wish I could say something back or at least smile. But all I can do is have trust in my love for him and his love for me. So I close my eyes, knowing I am safe, alive and home with my family. That's all I ever wanted.

* * *

 **A new chapter! Fun fact: I wrote the ending of Starless Sky and the Waves of Emotions all around this very chapter. It popped up in my dreams one night and I just had to write it down, letting the characters develop at least until this very moment. I had this vision of Gabriella coming home being totally shattered, destroyed and full of pain. I didn't know what had happened to her or who did this to her, but I knew it had to be written. So I wrote it down... I kept re-editing this chapter over and over until I thought it was 'perfect' in a way I can say the emotions transfer very well. It could have been a little hard to read, because it is just one scene with no changing. But I really wanted Gabriella's pain to become more visible, more real in a way. So, I hope you really enjoyed reading - and more** **importantly feeling - this chapter. Please review and tell me if you liked it.**

 **xoxo**


	9. Chapter 9

I wake up with a pulsing pain in my body. It's been the same pain as the last seven days, but the pain gets weaker with every day passing. It's the little improvements that make me happy. Like being able to see clearly. I open my eyes and see an empty bedside. It takes me a second to realize I am home. I am in my own bed. I am safe. Yet, I am alone.

My eyes start scanning the area. Adaline's moses basket has been moved. It's gone. Where is she? Where is my daughter? I turn my head around seeing a closed door. Pain starts rushing through my body. She's outside the room. Somewhere in this house. She's home. She's safe.

I am alive... It's so nice to be able to see again. Silence coats me in. I'm still not able to hear, I guess. But I can see. It's a step in the right direction. I watch the door opening. My husbands walks in and I enjoy the few seconds before he notices me. He looks so strong, so confident… so beautiful. His eyes meet mine and I feel my heart skipping a beat. There's surprise in his eyes as he notices that I am awake. He rushes over to me, sitting in front of me.

"You are safe. You're home." I hear a whisper and lips forming. It's the same words as every day since he saved me. "Good morning, my angel."

I frown before my brain starts connecting the noise to the pictures I am seeing. I can hear! I can hear him! Oh my god! I can hear! Say something! I force myself to open my mouth. My chin feels stiff. I take a deep breath, "Hi." it sounds weak. It's a whisper, maybe even more quite than that. I'm not even sure he has heard me.

His eyes widen and I know he heard me. I can talk! Oh god, I have my voice back! I can talk!

There's a laughter full of amazement coming out of my husband's mouth. He is just as surprised as me. I watch his eyes filling with tears before his lips find mine. He has such soft, full lips… "Hi…" he repeats and I close my eyes, letting his deep male voice ring in my ears. He has such an amazing voice. This melody in it is mesmerizing. I missed it so badly. The depth of his voice echoes in the deepest parts of my body. He has such a beautiful, beautiful voice...

I open my eyes again and see a grin on my husband's lips. His hands reach out to touch me and I feel a relief as his hands finally touch my cheeks. "You can hear and talk…" he shakes his head, still amazed. "How strong is the pain?" he asks me. It's still quite, but I can hear him. If I concentrate enough, I can hear him.

"I'm alive." I whisper back, feeling thirsty. I've lost so much water in the last two weeks… I've never felt so weak.

He places a glass of water in front of my mouth without me requesting it. He knows me inside out. I take a sip, feeling the water running down my throat. It feels so good… I am home. I am safe. I am alive. I can see he's holding pills. It's two this time. Two for the pain.

I want to take them out of his hand, but I feel my body aching as I try to move.

"Open your mouth." he orders and I do so before he places the pills into my mouth. I gulp them down with more water. "Don't try to move so much. You're still recovering. You need rest." He places the glass back on my nightstand.

"I need you." I whisper back.

He tilts his head to the side and I see his eyes watering up, "You have me until my last breath, my angel." I feel his hand fondling my right cheek. "I'm not leaving you alone again."

"You didn't leave me." I say back with tears in my eyes again.

"But I let you go. I let you fly to Miami." his eyes are full of guilt.

I bite my lip, "I love you." it's all I can say to make him feel better.

"I love you, too." he says into my eyes. "More than you know."

"Will you take care of me all by yourself?" I ask him as his thumb brush my hand. It's a small gesture, but it's enough to make me feel his love for me.

"Yes. No other person is going to get close to you." he promises me.

"You can't do this all alone. Taking care of Adaline and me, your job…" it's too much for him. He's getting ahead of himself. He'll have a breakdown.

"My family is the most important factor in my life. I'll take care of you. Instructing Melinda or even another nurse won't work as you won't trust her as much as you trust me. You're even afraid of your own brother. You're scared. Of everything. Every sound can scare you off now that you're finally able to hear. Every person makes you wince and run. You're scared of everyone except me. It's me and you only."

I close my eyes, this was too hard to hear but I know he's right. "Good. You and me… and Adaline when the time is right."

He nods, "Are you hungry?"

I think about the staircase. Eight stairs down to the kitchen. Unbearable pain. The hunger I felt disappears.

"Breakfast will be served in bed." he promises me.

"You cooked?"

"Yes." he says with a grin on his lips, "Though it's just scrambled eggs with tomatoes and mushrooms. Nothing special."

"That sounds like the best breakfast ever." I smile at him. A meal cooked by my husband. God, how much I missed that…

"I have to warn you, there's no coffee for you yet. I can offer you either water, tea or juice for the next few days." his fingers brush through my hair.

"Tea. Any tea. Any food… Anything made by you." I say into his eyes.

"Okay." he says, rising from the floor.

"Troy," I start and I watch him stop in his movement. He takes a breath in and I know it's because I've said his name. I haven't been able to say his name in seven days. He hasn't heard my voice in ten days. It's a liberating sound.

He turns around and I can suddenly see the vulnerability in his body. He's suffering just as much as I am. "Thank you." I say to him. It's something I've been wanting to say for so long… and now I am finally able to. "For everything."

His glance meets mine, "Thank you for surviving." he whispers back in a broken voice before leaving the bedroom.

I let the words linger in the air as I try to get up. Pain starts striking through my body. But I can do this. I can get up from bed. Or at least, lift myself. Yes, lifting myself shouldn't be as painful. Pain starts rushing through my body as I use my upper body to lift myself. I feel very muscle working, every nerve reacting with strong merciless pain. It's so hard. I didn't think this would be so hard. But then again I got taught otherwise in the last seven days. It feels like I have to learn everything again except for breathing. And thinking. I bite my lip as I have finally risen. I am so exhausted. One tiny movement and I am tired again. I close my eyes feeling tears building. No I don't want to cry again. I've been crying too much. I have to keep myself together. I can do this. I can sit straight in my bed. I can do this... I hear the door opening. For a second I don't know where I am anymore. For a moment, I think I am back in the room in Rio. For a moment I think I am still held by the kidnappers. For a moment I think I am dying… I feel chills going down my spine and sweat breaking out of every inch of my body. I open my eyes and see our bedroom… our home… and I feel my body relaxing. I am home. I am safe. Troy walks in holding a tablet with food and tea. I can hear a melodic cry and I know it's my daughter. She's crying... is she crying for me? With his foot, my husband shuts the door before walking over to me. There's anger in his eyes as he sees me.

"When I say don't move it means don't move." His voice is strict as he places the tablet at the edge of the bed.

I bite my lip as I watch him rising behind me to plump up the pillow. There's a sharp pain in my back. He takes the pillow of his bedside and plumps it up as well before putting it behind my back. I lean against the softness, surprised to feel only a burn in my body.

"Adaline's crying." I point out as he sits down next to me.

He pulls the tablet closer to us and I can see scrambled eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes, smashed potatoes and a few berries on a smaller plate. He made raspberry tea again. My favourite. He picks up the fork. He's going to feed me. Like he did the past seven days. Until I am able to move my arms and hands again, this is how it's going to be. Through good times and worse. "Yes." He says, holding the fork in front of my mouth, "She wants you. She wanted you since the day you left." How can my daughter miss me so badly, when all I did was feel nothing towards her? I open my mouth and let him feed me. I start chewing, I don't know when I am able to eat harder food. Even chewing soft food is painful. Not as painful as in the beginning but painful enough to make me feel tired.

"I don't want her to see me like that this. I'll traumatises her." I say after gulping. I look terrifying. I mean the many cuts are one thing, but bloody eyes are a whole new level of scariness. "Did she sleep here?"

He sighs, collecting more food with the fork, "Yes. Until she awoke fully at around eight."

"What time is it?" I ask him before I open my mouth again.

"It's ten. Miley, Lucas and me are trying to calm her down but she won't. She must've smelled you in our bedroom or something. She wants you. She knows you're here." He says as I chew the food.

I gulp, "She's stubborn."

He smiles, "Yes. Just like her mother."

I feel my heart breaking. She wants to see me so badly. "I won't be able to hold her."

His eyes are filled with surprise as he collects food again. "She can lay beside you. I think just looking at you is enough to calm her."

I open my mouth again and start chewing after he places the food in my mouth. I feel every muscle in my body aching as I chew. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"Okay..." his voice rings in my ears and I know he disagrees.

"Okay..." I echo, my eyes not leaving his for a few seconds. This man is more than I deserve. "How did you find me?" It's time to get some answers now that I am able to talk.

He offers me the cup of tea and I take a sip. The warm liquid feels so good. "Your call was our hottest tip. It was what gave us your location in the end. We watched the videos from the security cameras at the courthouse in Miami. There wasn't much footage. It happened in a few seconds. The security cameras showed you talking to Krimov before you walked into the bathroom. It's the last time you were recorded. The kidnapper got you out via the windows. A few minutes before you walked into the bathroom a red haired woman walked in. Her name is Natalia Davidson. She worked for Tanner. They met in prison. Natalia got out of prison two weeks after Tanner got in."

Natalia... the woman's name is Natalia. "Did you caught her?"

"Yes. But she didn't know much. She was just there to knock you out and get you in a car. She drove the car to an airport. They masked you by saying you were an organ donator for a hospital in Rio. You were unconscious the whole flight. Until you woke up in a load house on Corcovado."

Corcovado. That's the name of the mountain I climbed. It's why I saw the Cristo Redactor statue. I was on the Corcovado.

"I was in the jungle. I was in the Brazilian jungle..." I mumble. I can't believe I was on the Corcovado.

"We found you in a skyscraper in the city of Rio. One of those which were built for the Olympic Games but wouldn't be used because of destructive mistakes." His eyes scan my face. "Do you know how you got there?"

I shake my head, feeling pain. "No. I remember running through the jungle. The kidnappers were chasing me. I got bitten by an ant. I felt the poison running through my veins. My feet hurt. I had no shoes on. I made shoes out of the cardigan I was still wearing. After an eternity of running I finally reached the Brazilian Slums. I asked a man for help. He brought me into a house. He argued with his wife. Then I passed out." I make a pause, feeling my voice losing strength again. Goosebumps start covering my skin. He offers me the cup of tea again. I take another sip. "Somehow the kidnappers found me. The woman sold me for money. I tried to run again, but I felt so weak. They caught me and injected something via a needle. I woke up in the skyscraper." He listens closely to me. "There were a lot of people… They gave me drugs to stay awake. It was... horrific. I thought... I thought I knew what pain was. I thought I knew how strong pain can be... I had no idea." I say with tears in my eyes. I feel my lips shaking and my jaw therefore pulsing in pain. I am feeling pain now but then... back then I was pain. I embodied pain... pulsing pain, sharp pain, strong pain, weak pain and the pain I thought I'd never survive. But I did. I am alive. "Did you find Tanner and the other men?"

He clenches his teeth, "They all got eliminated."

"How many?"

I can see anger in his eyes. "Eighteen people."

Eighteen... God that's more than a football team! "How many of them did you eliminate?"

"Three." His answer is short, his voice is filled with peace. "Tanner, Joshua and Carlos. They were the head of the gang."

I remember them being on the list. We had no idea where they were. Probably all eighteen people were on the list. We had no idea they were working together. We thought it was only one person we should look for... not a gang. I gulp, "And there won't be any consequences?" In the last days I have not seen a police officer once. No one questioned me about what happened. I thought it was because I was doing so poorly.

"No. I cleared that with Scotland Yard and the Brazilian government. There are no records. No official investigation. We deleted every single file, burned every piece of paper. Officially it didn't happen. I used Seth's gun. He said he'd understand and do the same." his lips form a thin line and his eyes widen for a second.

"Did you just shoot them?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Because I need to know if you've let out the monster they turned you into."

He tilts his head to the side, his eyes scanning mine. He wants to know if I really want to know.

"Tell me. What did you do?"

He leans back, creating a distance I don't want. He did something horrible. Suddenly, his hand reaches out for mine "I let them suffer. After we found you..." he licks his lips, "I tortured them in ways I've been taught at the NSA. In ways that make amends for your pain. For your suffering."

I feel chills going down my spine, "How?"

"Gabriella..." he shakes his head, "Don't make me wanna tell you about the monster I was to make amends for my wife's pain. Please don't."

"I love every shade of you. I love the angel and the devil in you. I even love the monster inside."

He bites his lip, "Gabriella please."

I stay strong to his glance. I have to know. Otherwise my mind won't stop creating scenarios. Otherwise my husband won't sleep through the nights. He needs to tell me just as much as I need him to tell me. "Tell me or else you're going to have nightmares and you start kicking me during the nights again. We've been there before. We're not doing it again. Do you understand? Tell me what you did. Tell me how you killed them. Don't leave out the horrific details. Your shit is mine, remember?"

With closed eyes he sighs before his dark orbs look into mine, "There was a tool kit, that I used. The tools were already dirty, covered in blood and rust. I knew it was your's. I started with ripping out their nails out. With pliers. Finger by finger, toe by toe. I needed this to be clean. I didn't know what I wanted to do in the beginning. I had no plan. Then I broke their fingers with a hammer. One hammer stroke. Bone by bone, toe by toe. I was precise. After that I started doing the same to their teeth and jaws. 32 teeth, 28 teeth and 30 teeth. Five were out of gold, two out of ceramic. Their mouths were full of blood and they started coughing. Suddenly, I didn't care if it was messy or not. Next I started shattering their patellas before doing the same to their elbows by shooting with Seth's gun. I used six bullets for that. The last time I used in a gun was way before we met, but it felt like no time passed. I enjoyed it... But it wasn't enough for what they've done so I started cutting into their flesh with scissors I found. I cut deeply, through the skin, the fat, the muscles until I saw organs." He stops as he sees the expression on my face. It's somewhere between horror and amends. "I was careful. I didn't want them to pass out due to the pain. I needed them alive. I know exactly how much pain a person can tolerate before they die. Their cries were not strong enough. Their pleas not good enough. I stopped until I held the heart in my hands. Until I held the last beating, pulsing organ in my hands. I didn't squeeze. I didn't gave them an heart attack when they asked me to. I ripped it apart. With my fingers, with the muscles in my hands and arms. It was only then when the cries were shrill enough and my mind started feeling calmer. I did this three times. I would have done it a million times, only to make amends for what they've done to you."

A monster is an understatement for what they turned him into. They deserved everything he did to them. They deserved an excruciating death. I take his hand and kiss his knuckles, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me for something that was my fault in the beginning. I only cleaned up after my mistake."

"And that you did very well."

His response is silent. I can't believe he killed for me. He never killed anyone. Even with his kind of history, he has never killed anyone. Until now. Until he met me.

"What else did you find there?" I ask him, sensing that there's something he isn't telling me.

"There's… there's a video." he brushes through his hair. "It's why we found you in the skyscraper."

"They recorded it?" I ask in surprise. I didn't see a camera. At least, I don't remember one.

"Yes." his voice is full of anger and contempt. "They wanted to blackmail me."

I feel a shiver going down my spine. "Did you…" I close my mouth. I can't ask him that.

His blue orbs have crack in them. "I couldn't bring myself to watch it yet. But I will. Seth and his team saw the tape. The faces I looked at when they told me there's a video... Something cracked inside of me as I saw their eyes telling me you won't survive this, telling me they haven't seen such things before."

I shake my head, "Don't watch the video. It won't help you. You will only feel pain and guilt... and anger. Don't do this to yourself. Please don't beat yourself up for this. You killed them. You got your revenge. Do you feel better now?"

"I would have felt better if they didn't kidnapped you. Let alone have you for three days." His features are stiff. He's angry.

"It's over." I whisper to him. "I am alive. I survived."

He presses his forehead against mine, "Thank God, you survived... thank god, you're alive."

"I told you I wouldn't let you out of this marriage so easily."

His smile is all I need. It's why I fought.

"I love you." I whisper again.

"I love you, too." He whispers back before kissing me softly. I feel the kiss echoing through my body. For the first time this morning I feel no pain. It lasts only a few seconds, but that's enough. For now.

"What happened to Krimov?"

He sighs, "My first instinct was to fire him..."

"Troy..." he did nothing wrong. Even he couldn't have foreseen this.

"I didn't do it. In fact he helped finding you."

"He's not gone?" I'm surprised. I thought he fired him. Or scared him of.

"No. He did nothing wrong. He didn't miss any signs... but I gave him the next week off. I don't think we need him."

"Good." I want to smile, but I don't have the strength out of the sudden. "What about Pastor Reed?"

His lips form a thin line again, "He's behind bars for the rest of his life. In case he does get out - for whatever reason - I can't guarantee you that I can hide the monster inside of me."

His blue eyes have darkened and I gulp. He's promising me to kill him if he gets out. He'll kill for me again...

"Shall I get Miley?"

I nod, I am not hungry anymore. "Yes."

He rises from the floor and picks up the tablet, which is almost empty. I watch him leaving the bedroom and hear my daughter's cry for me. I really hope Miley is going to help. Closing my eyes I relax for a few minutes. I am so tired. My body aches so much... I hear the door opening and I open my eyes again. I feel my body reacting with chills and sweat again. Troy was right. I am afraid of every little movement I can hear now. I am afraid of every person coming close to me. I see my blonde best friend walking in, holding a makeup bag in her hands.

"I would like to hug you or hold your hand or anything but after yesterday... Boy, I've heard Troy yelling no but Ryan's arms were already around you. It was too late and you... you screamed. I've never heard that sound before. It was pure pain, pure horror... it was heartbreaking. I mean, we were all in tears when you left. Ryan was so sorry and so full of fear. And the stairs... God, stairs never sounded so painful. I will never be able to walk down stairs the same way before."

I don't know what to respond. Ryan had no idea in how much pain I am. He didn't knew... he meant well. I would have done the same.

"You look absolutely horrible." She says, sitting next to me. "How much pain are you feeling?"

I focus her bright blue eyes, "I felt like death in the last days... now, I feel like dying."

"That doesn't sound like an improvement to me. But let's see how much I can cover up." She says, opening the tiny bag in front of her.

"It's big improvement. There's a huge difference between feeling dead and feeling like dying."

She fishes out foundation and a brush. "To me it's the same."

"I'm alive. That's all what counts." I say. I stopped rating my pain. There is no number for the pain I felt, for the pain I am feeling. It's too strong to rate it.

"We were all so scared, Gabs." Her voice is soft as she starts putting foundation on my face and neck. I wince as I feel every brushstroke echoing in pain through my body.

"I know..." I was scared as well. I thought I'd die. I thought I wouldn't survive this. But I did. I survived. I am alive.

"Troy was... God, I've never seen him this way. He was so helpless. So full of anger... so full of worry and guilt. He was a whole different person. Even Lucas said he had never seen him like this."

I gulp, trying to avoid imagining being in his position. I would have freaked out. I would have done everything I could to get him back. I would have given my life to save him.

"He told us what really happened on New Years Eve." She says as she puts on concealer for the worse hematoma. "I have no idea how he can deal with you and not cry all the time. I mean, it must've tear him apart. I know it would tear me apart."

I gulp, feeling pain going through my body, "I'm waiting for his breakdown as well."

"He's too strong for a breakdown."

"He's human."

"He saved you… Because you saved him. You guys are constantly saving each other."

I don't respond. I don't know how. We save each other... because we don't exist without each other.

"Why didn't you guys inform us earlier about New Year's? We could have helped. This whole fucked up situation was a family thing."

"You know why." I answer simply back. She puts blush on my cheeks.

She sighs, "Troy jumped into the plane a day after you flew to Miami. He was torn between taking Adaline with him and letting her here with us. We promised to take the best care of her we could - and not let Diana alone with her. Lucas told me what happened that night... how she attacked you and Troy threw her out. Why didn't you tell me? We're family. Literally."

I close my eyes, "Diana and Troy... it's complicated. They love each other, they are afraid of one another, they protect themselves from each other..."

"Diana attacked you with a knife!" Miley breathes out. "She could have killed you!"

I open my eyes, "She's sick."

"That's not an excuse."

"You sound like Troy."

"Because he's right."

"Next time someone attacks you, shoots at you or tries to kidnap you, you tell me!"

I smile at her, "Okay."

"I love you." her blue eyes are glassy.

"I know. I love you, too."

"You showed me what family really is. You are my family, Gabriella. Without you..." she gulps, "Look at where we are. We're with loving caring men, who'd do anything. We live in beautiful houses... you have a daughter." Tears start rolling down her cheeks, "And now think of where we could have been if we hadn't met. I'd have starved myself to death by now for sure. Kelsi would have killed herself, too. And Ryan... He would have taken an overdoses at one of these Upper East Side parties. And you..." she shakes her head, "You'd be all alone."

I feel tears building in my eyes too. "Don't think of what could have been. Think of what is right now."

She nods, "Yes..."

"How did Adeline deal with us being gone?"

"Not good." She says before covering my lips with chopstick. They are still a bit cracked. She puts on a nude coloured lipstick. "It was very hard for us to calm her down. She was crying. She was crying for her mother. It sounded different than before. She wasn't hungry, she didn't need her diaper to be changed, she didn't want her attention. She wanted you. She ached for you and Troy. She wanted her parents so badly."

I feel tears building in my eyes again.

"It's the same way she's crying now. It's just like you said, she has a different tone for different needs." Her blue eyes scan my eyes, "I think now you look a lot less demolished."

"Do you think I'm going to traumatise her?"

She shakes her head, "She wants you. She doesn't care how you look like. She wants to see you, feel you. She loves your heart not your appearance."

"I can't hold her. I can't raise my arms yet."

"She'll be pleased with a finger for now, I think." My blonde best friend says with a smile on her lips.

I nod, "I'm ready for her."

"Okay." Miley rises from bed and I watch her walking out of the bedroom. I close my eyes, inhaling deeply. I can do this. I won't traumatise her. She'll be fine. She'll be fine...

The door opens and I can see Troy walking in. He's holding our daughter. She's a little moody, but she stops the second she's in the room. She really must be able to smell me. Or feel my presence or something. It's amazing.

"How do I look?" I ask him. I haven't looked in a mirror, but I trust Miley.

He closes the door with his free hand before looking at me. "Pain free." He says simply. I am glad he doesn't lie.

I nod, "Good." I don't feel like it. But at least I look like it.

He walks over to me, "Where shall I lay her down?"

I can't have her weight on my legs. She might be light and tiny but my body is too sensitive. It would be too painful. I strike the blanket next to me, smoothing the surface before Troy lays her down. She protests at first, but stops as she lays down next to me. Her bright blue orbs start looking at me and I feel my lungs losing air. God, this glance! It feels like she's looking straight into my soul. She makes me feel emotionally naked. Just like with her father, there's nothing I can hide from her. I bite my lip before I start fondling her cheek with my forefinger. She has grown so much... I can't believe how much I missed. Suddenly, her hand wraps around my forefinger and I gasp. Her eyes look into mine and I know she's forgiven me. She forgave me. For leaving her.

I feel tears building in my eyes as we stare at each other. Troy was right. She doesn't need me to hold her or feed her or walk around with her. She just needs me next to her. Looking at her. Giving her comfort. It's enough. It's all I am able to give and for her it's enough. She's amazing. My daughter is amazing. I can feel weight on the bed and I look at my husband. He's sitting next to me on the edge of the bed with his elbow he reaches out for her. I can't see him clearly as my vision is still a bit blurry from my tears, but I know he's just as in awe with her as I am.

"Are you okay?"

I nod, "I am feeling." I say in a whisper.

He smiles, before his fingers brush through my hair. "You are?"

"Yes. I feel… everything. Joy, gratitude, fear… love. A lot of love. It feels like waves of emotions inside of me." I am amazed. By everything.

"You feel…" he echoes.

"Yes." I agree with him before I look at our daughter again. She looks so happy. She looks satisfied. She got her will after all. She's with me. Her mother. And I'm not going anywhere. "God, she's so beautiful…" I breathe out, watching her stretch her arms and legs while her hands are still glued on my forefinger.

"She is…" I can hear my husband agreeing with me and for the first time I am just as in awe of her as the rest of my family is. I can feel my heart nearly bursting with my love for her. She's our's… I can't believe we created her. I can't believe I carried her for 42 weeks… I can't believe how perfect she is. How stubborn… how strong... how beautiful. She yawns before her eyelids start closing. She's sleepy, but she doesn't let go of my forefinger.

"She's afraid you'll be gone when she wakes up." Troy voices my thoughts.

"I won't go anywhere." I promise her in a whisper, watching her fall asleep. I could watch her all day and night. She's so beautiful, so perfect... so genuine. "Call Melinda. You won't be able to handle me and Adaline at the same time." I say, looking at my husband. A newborn is a hell lot of work for their parents anyway, but dealing with her alone and caring for a helpless partner on the other hand... he won't handle it.

His lips form a thin line and I know he doesn't like this idea.

"I won't be as afraid of her as with a different nurse. I know her. I know how she interacts with me."

"No."

"Troy… you have your firm, Adaline… and me? That's too much. You need a break. You need time to breathe. You need time for yourself."

"I have a five minute break in the mornings and evenings when I meditate. I don't need more. What I need is to know you guys are safe. Alive."

I close my eyes, there's no need to start an argument. I'm home for less than 24 hours and already arguing with my husband. "Fine." I'm giving in. It's the best option right now. "But ask Dr. Gardener to make home visits please. I don't want to walk down those stairs again. At least, not until I've recovered a bit."

He places his hand on mine, "Dr. Gardener will be here this afternoon."

I can't help but smile, "You're thinking ahead. Maybe you really are able to take care of your beaten up wife and sleeping daughter after all, Mr. Bolton."

He smirks, "Just know, I would kiss you dizzy right now."

"My favorite kind of kisses."

* * *

 _I can't see anything. I am going out of air. Water is still storming onto me. I won't survive. Not this time. Not this time… I feel my vision getting dark as the cloth on my face gets lifted. They stopped, but I don't think it was soon enough._

I open my eyes full of shock. My heart is beating heavily in my chest, my nerves are screaming in pain. I look to my right and see Troy sitting in an armchair, holding my hand. His bright blue eyes are soft. "You are safe."

I want to smile, but that would hurt too much. Usually he would greet me or kiss me. But now... now his first words are you are safe. He has told me this every time I awoke from one of my flashbacks. Every single time. I don't count and I think neither does he. He will tell me this until I believe it. Until the flashbacks are not as scary, not as real, as they are right now.

"I'm safe." I repeat in a whisper.

He nods before his lips kiss my knuckles, "Yes you are."

Adaline's gone. I must've fallen asleep after eating lunch - or rather being fed. Where is she? The door opens and I can hear footsteps. For a second I want to run again, but then I remember where I am. I am in my safe harbor. I am home.

I watch Dr. Gardener walking over to my bed, stopping across me. Her dark brown hair is open, her eyes widen as she sees me. In her hands she holds a folder with information about my condition and her doctor bag. Home visits have something magical.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Bolton. Mrs. Bolton how are you feeling?" There's a smile on her lips. I have no idea where she finds the strength to smile.

"I am in pain. But I am also getting better." I know how scary I look like - how abused my bones are, how dark the hematoma on my skin are... I look like a victim that's escaped. I look worse than any of these Hollywood movies could capture.

She opens the folder and holds up the x-rays from my bones."You have several bruised rips and other bruised bones. There are no fractures. It's a miracle. Your blood test is not as good as it should be. Have the doctors in Brazil considered putting you in a coma?"

"Yes." Troy says for me.

"Considering these pictures it would have been the better choice." she says before she looks at my MRTs. "What medication have you been prescribed?"

Troy gives her the bottles containing the pills. I watch Dr. Gardener reading the labels before walking over to me. "Okay, I'm going to give you stronger pain killers. They can make you a little nauseous and make you very sleepy, which is exactly what your body needs. You need to sleep as much as possible. And you also need to hydrate. Drink a lot of water. You also need a better salve for the wounds. Clean the wounds every two days." she places the bottles on the nightstand next to me. "And now please raise a little so I can check your heartbeat and lungs." she asks me.

I lift my upper body, not masking the pain. My bruised hips pulse in pain as Dr. Gardener places her stethoscope on my heart. I bite my lip as I feel the cold steel touching my skin. It hurts. Breathing hurts.

"Inhale as deeply as you can." she says and I do as she tells me to. My body responses by shaking, my eyes by tearing up. My nerves go crazy as pain rushes through me. This is not fun. "Okay." Dr. Gardner says putting the stethoscope away from my upper body. "That didn't sound good, I'm not gonna lie."

"It fits to my condition." I joke and have no idea where I find the strength to.

She doesn't smile, "Your rips are still very bruised, but your heart sounds okay. It's beating a bit faster than it should, but that's understandable. Your lungs are still not using their full capacity, but that's going to get better over the weeks. I have to check your blood pressure as well." She gets out a pressure cuff. "That may be uncomfortable." she slowly wraps it around my right arm in height of my heart. I wince as she starts pumping air into it. It hurts. It's not uncomfortable, it's painful. I feel pressure on my arm, I feel nerves reacting with pain, I feel my eyes reacting with tears. This is so painful…

"Good, your blood pressure is a bit too low." she looks at Troy as she opens the pressure cuff, "I need you to check her blood pressure twice daily. And every time she feels dizzy. Give her one of these if it's too low." she gets an orange bottle with pills out of her bag before placing it on the night stand. She looks at me, "Follow my finger." she says and moves her finger from left to right, up and down and right to left. "Do you feel dizzy?"

"No."

"Nauseous?"

"No."

"Okay." she walks away from me, before holding up her hand. "How many fingers am I holding up?" she ask me.

I squeeze my eyes and feel my head responding with pain. "Four?" I guess.

She lowers her hand, shaking her head. "Three would have been correct." She sighs as her hands dig into her bag once more. "To be honest, I would like to have you in a hospital bed on watch 24/7 for at least two weeks." she says to me.

"I don't want this." I say back. I spent already enough days in a hospital.

"It would be the better option."

"It's not an option at all." I hiss back.

She chuckles before looking at Troy, "You have a stubborn wife there."

He smiles at her, "Oh you have no idea..."

She gets out three bottles and one tub before she looks at my husband again. "These are for the night." she holds up the first bottle, "Those for the pain. No more than five a day, but I think two will do the job." she places the first and second bottle on the nightstand. "The third bottle is for supporting your liver. One every two days." she places the third bottle on the nightstand, "And the salve for the wounds." the puts the salve next to the four bottles. My nightstand looks like pharmacy. Dr. Gardener looks at me again, "You are a very strong woman, Mrs. Bolton. You'll need this strength in the next six weeks. Recovery won't be easy - it will be a hell lot of pain. From the bruised rips to your bruised hips, every movement will hurt. But just know it's going to get better. You will recover from this. Physically and mentally. Take one step at a time. Don't rush it. Just walking through this room will feel like a marathon for you. Take care, will you?"

I nod, "If not, I have my husband who will."

She smiles at me before she looks at Troy, "If you need anything call me. No matter the day or time. Call me."

"Yes, we will. Thank you Dr. Gardner."

"I'll pay a visit in two weeks. You have a great family supporting you." she smiles as she picks up her bag and walks out of the room. I can see Lucas standing in the hallway, waiting for Dr. Gardener to come out. I guess he let her in and will escort her out. Lucas hasn't stepped into the bedroom. I guess he's still terrified from my appearance. Troy closes the door behind her.

"Where's our daughter?" I ask in a whisper.

"She's with Miley, who tied her in one of the wraps you bought. She loves getting carried that way. They are downstairs, making music. Playing the piano, singing… Adaline's laughing her heart out and babbling along. Just wait until you see those two in action."

I smile. Making music… "I think our daughter is coming more after me than you."

He returns my smile before sitting down on the bed next to me, "I agree with you on that one."


	10. Chapter 10

I smile as I take the last step of the staircase leading to our kitchen. It's the first time since he brought me home that I walked them down with almost no pain at all. I am getting better... I am finally getting better! Five weeks of physical therapy is paying off.

"You did it..." my husband is looking at me over his shoulder. There's a big smile on his lips, showing me his pride. He's wearing a black shirt with Armani briefs.

I return his smile as I walk over to the kitchen island, "I did it." Adaline's sitting in her chair and starts chuckling as she sees me. "Mommy did it." I say to her smily face before I kiss her cheek.

"Mom-my." she starts mimicking my words.

My mouth drops open as my ears connect the sound to the image I am seeing. She said Mommy! Oh my god! She said Mommy! "Troy," I breathe out, twisting my body so I see him. "Did she just say mommy?"

There's a huge proud smile on his lips, "Yes she did. But we wanted to show you that trick after the photoshoot."

"When did she start talking?" I ask him, amazed by my question. My daughter can talk! She can say mommy! She can talk!

"This morning." he answers before taking a sip of his coffee.

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"Because she said Daddy first." There's a smirk on his lips that makes my heart burst like fireworks in the sky.

"Her first word was Daddy?" I ask him back. How the hell can my daughter talk already?!

He shakes his head, "No her first word was blue. She pointed at my eyes and said blue."

I frown as my brain assimilates his words. "So she... she said blue and pointed at your eyes?"

He nods as he walks over to me. "She connected her vision to logic."

"But... She shouldn't be able to do that... yet." I think out loud before I look at my daughter. She's only two months old! "No, you must've misunderstood her. She's... her brain is not able to do that yet. She's suppose to see only green and red at this stage of development."

"I am telling you, she is able to see blue - and she knows it."

"No... no she can't solve sensorimotoric problems yet. She isn't suppose to make any analogies."

"She's already smiling and laughing. She's making all kind of noises. She reacts to your voice in a way that she knows your voice. She reacts to you or me singing or talking to her. She reacts to sounds surrounding her - something she should be doing anywhere between the third and sixth month of her development."

"She's ahead..." She's connecting sounds to things. I look at Adaline again. Her bright blue eyes stare at mine. My two months old daughter has the brain of a six months old. She's four months ahead in her development... that's not possible. Maybe I misheard her. Maybe Troy misunderstood her... I shake my head. "Say it again. Say mommy. Mom-my." I say to her, but she keeps her mouth shut. I watch her blue eyes smiling before I feel my husband's arms around my body. I inhale his scent, feeling no need to run or wince. Five weeks of recovery have paid off. I can finally walk down stairs without crying. I can walk around in my own house. Most of the cuts on my skin have healed. The blood in my eyes has disappeared. I am able to talk, hear and see as I did before the kidnapping. It's a relief... a true relief. The bruises start to vanish. My rips as well as my hips are getting better, too. I feel his lips kissing my right cheek and I smile. "She won't talk now."

He shakes his head, "Our girl has a brain of her own. At least as stubborn as her mother."

"And at least as bright as her father." I say, still amazed by our daughter. I watch her lips smiling and I wonder what I did to deserve to have given birth to such a wonderful human being.

"Miley's going to be about five minutes late." he says to me as I turn around.

"Good." I say as I wrap my arms around his neck. I feel my rips responding to the movement, but I decide to ignore the pain. I can take painkillers later.

"Good?" he asks me back, raising an eyebrow at me.

"Yes, because it gives us time for this." I say before kissing him. Feeling victorious, I kiss him passionately. He returns my kiss, giving into the moment. As our tongues start their beloved dance, I forget everything else around me as well. Quickly, I surrender myself in my feelings for my husband. As he lets go, I feel dizzy, happy and full of love.

"We should stop or else I'd have to take another shower..." his fingers fondle my cheek. His bright blue orbs have darken and I know he feels the same desire as me.

"Yes." I agree with him, tilting my head to his palm. Hot kisses are everything I am able to give him. And for now, it has to be enough.

"These are the moments I ask myself how I deserve to be with you." his eyes are full of love and dreams of our future. I place my hand on his, hearing Adaline babbling. I chuckle as she communicates with us in a language neither of us is able to understand.

"Yes and you, too." Troy looks over my shoulder, "You are the best that's ever happened to me." he looks back at me, "Both of you."

I smile, "I love you, too." I say simply as I hear the doorbell ringing. "Those weren't five minutes."

He chuckles as he leaves his daughter and me alone in the kitchen. I watch him walking into the foyer before I turn around and focus on my daughter. Her bright blue orbs look at me and she smiles. She's a wonderful human being. At seven weeks she looks much more like Troy than me. But she definitely has some of my characteristics. She is by far the most stubborn person I know.

"You guys are not even dressed yet." Miley's surprised voice reaches my ears. I look over my shoulder and see my best friend walking in.

"Good morning." I say to her with a smile on my lips.

She rolls her eyes at me, "You guys need to get dressed. Forbes Magazine will be here in less than 45 minutes!"

I sigh, "I just walked down the stairs."

"Then walk them up again!" she orders, pointing at them. "I need you to be dressed, so I can make your hair and your make up. We need to disguise as many cuts and bruises as we can."

Troy chuckles as he follows her in the kitchen. "You always hit the nail, Miley."

Miley turns around, "Don't you chuckle! You are not dressed as well." her eyes stop at the Armani briefs and black shirt that he's wearing. "Though, most women wouldn't mind seeing Mr. Troy Bolton in Armani briefs..."

"I'm taken." he defends himself, holding up his left hand. "And I get dressed fast."

She sighs, "Have an eye on your daughter while I get your wife ready. You guys are just unbelievable sometimes!"

"But I haven't eaten anything yet!" I protest as she places her hands on my shoulders, leading me back to the stairs.

"Good for you. That means you can fit into that Armani pencil skirt I have in mind for you."

I sigh as a complain before I remember the actual important thing this morning. "Adaline talked this morning."

"No!" Miley sounds just as surprised as I was.

"Yes!"

"What did she say?"

"She said blue and pointed at Troy's eyes."

"Wait, what?!" Miley asks shocked. "Are you telling me her first word was blue? Her first word is suppose to be mommy or daddy or auntie - but not blue!"

I shake my head, "No, you don't understand... She pointed at Troy and practically told him that his eyes were blue."

"Okay..."

"You still don't understand, do you?"

"No."

"Her brain starts connecting sounds to things and things to a meaning. She didn't just say blue. She told him it was blue."

"I still don't get it."

I sigh, "She's suppose to do that anywhere between ten months and a year. Not at the age of seven weeks!"

"Oh she's very bright then." Miley says smiling.

I shake my head again. "She's not just bright... if she keeps developing with that speed..."

"She might start college at the age of fifteen or so." Troy answers for me, having the same fear in his voice.

"So she could be genius, where's the problem?" Miley says, "I knew you guys were bright people and of course you had to create a genius. You'll get along with her."

I gulp, "We don't know anything yet. It could be just a coincidence."

"When did ever something happen as a coincidence in your life?"

"Don't make me worry about it more than I already do." I hiss at her.

"Fine. Let's get your dressed first."

"Mommy and aunt Miley are going crazy over this." Troy sings to our daughter.

"It's important!" Miley protests as she follows me up the stairs.

"That's what they all say about the first photoshoot." his singing voice fades as we reach the upper floor.

"I haven't heard him sing in a while now." Miley says as we walk down the hallway.

"I bet you heard enough of him when you guys wrote that love song for me."

"Oh the love song..." she smiles, "I can't believe how long ago that was!"

I smile, "Sometimes it feels like yesterday."

She returns my smile before we walk into the bedroom. "Okay, what do you want to wear?"

I shrug, "I don't know."

"Gabriella, how can you not know? How can you not care?" she seems shocked as she walks into my closet.

"I've been busy not dying in the last five weeks. I had no time thinking of dresses, skirts and pants."

She rolls her eyes before they focus on my clothes. "Okay... Let's see what I have to work with..." she starts pushing hanger by hanger to the side.

"Just pick anything. I don't mind."

"You guys will be photographed. You guys will be on the cover of Forbes Magazine. What you wear matters." she starts arguing before she pulls out a red Chanel dress. "What will Troy wear?"

"I don't know. A suit." I say as she hands me the dress.

She rolls her eyes, "What color will the suit be?"

"Grey, Black or dark blue." I say, looking at his side of our closet. I stare at his twenty suits all from luxury designers: Armani, Hermes, Hugo Boss, Dolce Gabanna, Valentino... he has a lot.

"What tie?" she asks, handing me a white blouse and a black pencil skirt.

I let my eyes wander over to his ties. Silver, black, navy, stripes... "Honestly, I don't know."

"I see you're no help at all." she places her hand on her hips.

I shrug before I allow my eyes to look at my side of the closet again. Miley picks out a few more skirts, a couple of pants and some more blouses. She picks out colors and cuts I would have never put together. "If your music will ever go down, you could be an image consultant."

"Lucky me, I have you who produces me." she says chuckling.

"True, it means you're quite safe in this business."

She smiles at me before her eyes look next to me. I turn around and see Troy behind me. His eyes look at the pile of clothes I am holding. "Woah..."

"Miley wants me to try these on." I say with a shrug.

"What are you wearing?" she asks him.

"Armani one button suit in satin wool, Hermes white oxford shirt, Armani silver tie and handcuffs from our wedding day."

Miley looks at me, "See? That's what I want to hear when I asked you this. Why can't you be so organized?"

I shrug, "It's why you love me."

She chuckles before she walks over to me. I hand her the pile of clothes, which she throws on our bed. "Okay, that means you won't wear that... or that... or this." she starts picking up the clothes, "Oh and this." with the clothes on the hanger she walks back into my closet, placing them where they belonged.

I look at my husband, whose eyes stare at the clothes. "What do you think?"

His eyes look at the options that are laying in front of him, "The silver colored Armani dress. With the silver Francesco Russo shoes. The mirrored ones."

"Decision made." I say to Miley as she picks out the matching shoes. The elegant Francesco Russo shoes have scalloped straps that are precision-cut to resemble leaves. They look absolutely stunning.

Her mouth drops open. "But you haven't even tried the others!"

"If he thinks it'll look good, it will look good." I say into her eyes before picking up the dress.

"And then why am I here?" she snaps at me.

"To cover the torment." I say back, truthfully. "To give me the strength to get through this."

She inhales deeply, "I'll do my best."

I feel Troy's hand on my shoulder and I look up, "I'm okay."

He doesn't believe me. "Okay."

Miley hands me the shoes, sensing the worried atmosphere between us out of the sudden. "I'll check on Adaline."

"Yes..." I trail off, hearing her leave the bedroom as my eyes are still glued to my husband's. His lips have parted and for a moment I don't know if it's because he wants to say something he can't or shouldn't. Suddenly, I feel his lips crashing against mine so hard that I fall on the bed, dragging him with me as I wrap my arms around his neck. His lips start kissing me with a kind of passion I haven't felt in a while, making me forget everything around me. I ignore the pulsing pain from my hip, the dragging pain from my bruised rips and the prick by one of the hangers in my back. I return his kiss, allowing our tongues to continue their dance from this morning. Eagerly, I get drunk in his taste and smell. Biting into my lower lip, he let's go and I feel dizzy, yet hungry for more.

"We should stop..." he whispers to me.

I nod, "Yes, we should..." yet I can't let my eyes off of his lips. My fingers brush through his hair before I kiss him again. He growls as I let go.

"You make it very hard for me to stay sane." his bright blue eyes stare into mine.

I let my hands wander down his back, feeling his muscles vibrating from my touch. "I want more." I whisper, voicing my desire for him.

He closes his eyes for a moment. It's hard for both of us... As he opens them again, I can see his burning desire in the dark blue marble that has built in the bright blue of his iris. Sweet Jesus... "I want more, too." he says simply and I realize what I've done to him. His orbs make me feel a kind of desire I have never felt for him. I want to rip the clothes he's wearing off of him. I want his lips on my skin, his hands on my body... I close my eyes. I can't. I can't have sex when there's still pain in my body.

"I need a shower." he says to me before rising from the bed.

I sigh as I brush through my hair, "Soon." I promise as I watch him walking into the bathroom.

He turns around halfway, showing me the size of his erection underneath the black Armani pajama pants. "I won't fuck you when you're in pain."

"I know." I say back, rising from the bed as well.

His eyes dance down my body and although I am only wearing one of his grey shirts I feel like the hottest woman on earth right now. "Oh boy, how I wish it were soon already."

I roll my eyes at him, "I'll let you know."

His eyes stop at mine, "I wouldn't miss it for the world." he closes the bathroom door and I inhale sharply. This man is driving me insane and I love every second of it.

I hear a knock on the door as I look over my shoulder.

Miley walks in, "Are you guys done with ripping each other's heads off?"

I frown at her, "Why would you think that?"

"Well wasn't there this atmosphere between you guys..." she trails off.

"No..."

"Oh, so that means..."

I nod, "Yes."

"And he always looks like this when he's...?" she asks me. She seems surprised.

I grin at her, "My husband is full of surprises."

"I see... And you guys didn't have any sex yet?"

I bite my lip, "I can't." I answer with a simple shrug as she sits down next to me.

"Oh sweetie..."

"He wants to. He really does... I mean..." I brush through my hair, "this was the closest we can get before any of us crosses a line. And every time we kiss or touch, we're so fucking close to crossing that line."

"It sucks."

"It does. I mean it's not like I don't want to. I do... I really, really do. But I am still recovering. I am still in pain. And as long as I am not pain free he has to take one too many cold showers like he is doing right now."

She brushes through my hair, "You don't deserve the shit you've been through. A woman like you deserves a happy ending."

"Well, I do have a happy ending. Only he's showering under icy cold water without me right now."

She chuckles before offering me her hands. "Come, you need to get ready as well. Otherwise you guys will be on the cover of Forbes Magazine in a shirt and Armani briefs. Not good."

* * *

"Troy, wait." I say, grabbing his hand as we walk down the hallway on the first floor. Walking in the Franceso Russo heels is a task my body is not quite ready for.

He stops, his blue orbs getting clouded with worry. "Do you want me to cancel this?"

I tilt my head to the side, knowing he'd do exactly that if I asked him to. "I can't walk down the stairs in these shoes." I say back instead.

His eyes move down the silver tight fitting Armani dress before they stop at the metallic silver Francesco Russo heels. "If that's your only issue..." he mumbles before my feet loose the steady ground out of the sudden.

I let out a surprised cry as I feel safe in his arms. Unlike my expectation, I am not in pain at all. "What are you doing?"

"Taking care of my wife." he says before he continues walking with me in his arms. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Absolutely pain free." I lean my head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat. I inhale deeply, smelling his shower gel. "I have the best husband in the world." I whisper, brushing through his hair.

"Careful or else we're going to do the photoshoot in a cold shower." he hisses with a smirk on his lips.

I bite my lip before I kiss him. Suddenly, I feel him walking down the stairs and I let go of. With his strong arms around my body, I feel safe and surprisingly not in pain.

"There you are!" I hear Miley calling us and I look over to her. She's standing behind the kitchen island, her hands placed on her hips. She looks a little mad and I know it's because we're late. Behind her I can see the staff from Forbes Magazine: there's a photographer, an assistant and a man in a suit. I think he's the supervisor or something. All twelve eyes are on us as Troy walks down the stairs with me in his arms. I blush, feeling embarrassed. Usually, these moments are between Troy and me only. Suddenly, Miley gets out her iPhone and takes a picture of us.

"Why did you take a picture of us?" I ask her as soon as Troy lets me down. "Thank you." I whisper to him.

His fingers fondle my cheek and I hear Miley's phone camera clicking again. "Any time."

I turn around, "Seriously, is there a reason for this?!" I snap at her.

My blonde best friend smiles, "Behind the scenes photos. They're going to be a hit on instagram!"

I roll my eyes, "Tag Unfaithful records then. It's the least you could do."

Her blue eyes are already glued to the skin, "Of course..."

I take my husband's hand and we walk over to the Forbes staff. "Good morning." I greet them. It's still early, somewhere between nine and ten.

"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Bolton." The man in the suit says to us, "I'm Jeffrey Jackson, the editor of your issue."

I nod, "You're the one we sent the interview to via mail. It's nice to meet you." I say, shaking hands with him.

"That's Derek and his assistant Charlie." he introduces the other two men to us.

Troy nods to them, showing no smile. He has already switched from loving husband to professional CEO.

"Well, I might need to help a little today." I say to Derek and Charlie, "I have never done a photoshoot. And standing next to my husband, I'm going to feel more than intimidating." I answer faithfully.

My husband squeezes my hand and I look at him, "I'm your support. Not competition."

I sigh, "You just know how to move in front of a lens. You've done that more than I could count. You have the most powerful aura I've ever seen."

"Don't underestimate yourself, Mrs. Bolton." he says to me, "After all you are the only one who was able to tame me." he whispers into my ear.

"Well we will put on some music to help you relax." Charlie offers, "And Derek will tell you what to do. He'll give you guidelines. He really knows how to take good pictures. Not that any of these won't be any less than good..." he blushes.

I chuckle, "I'm glad we're doing this with such sympathetic people then."

* * *

"Bend your left knee a little, Mrs. Bolton." I shift my weight and feel my muscles reacting with a bit pain. Heels are uncomfortable. The Francesco Russo heels are breathtaking, but my body is not enjoying the shift in my weight.

"Right hand on her hip, Mr. Bolton." the photographer says to Troy and I feel his hand gliding up my legs. My body reacts to his touch as I feel my breath quickening. I had no idea a photoshoot with my husband would be so much fun.

"Lean against your husband, please."

"I swear when I've recovered fully..." I hiss out between my teeth as I lean against his torso. I fell his strong abs against my back. I tilt my head to the side, seeing a dirty grin on his lips. Thanks to Miley's make-up magic none of the hematoma are visible. Not even in the bright lights that shine down on us.

"Oh I know..." he whispers.

"Stay this way!" I hear the camera clicking. I don't want a picture of husband and me giving each other dirty grins on the cover of Forbes. Yet I gulp as his fingertips lift my chin a little. His bright blue orbs are mesmerizing and I forget that we're in the middle of a photoshoot that's happening right in our living room.

"Perfect!" I hear the word's from the photographer not louder than a whisper.

"I thought you'd go for Louboutins." I say as I look down my shoes.

His fingers brush through my hair, "Louboutins are for me only."

I bite my lip, "Yes." I agree with him.

"And once you wear them..."

My breathe quickens, "I can't wait."

"Beautiful!"

I burst out of laughter suddenly, unable to hold the pose. My husband laughs along, unable to stay serious as well. "I'm sorry." I say after the laughter attack and wipe the tears away from my eyes. Troy smiles at me. As his thumbs wipe away another tear of mine, I hear the camera clicking again.

"These will be perfect pictures!"

My head swings over to Derek, the photographer for Forbes Magazine. I am so glad we did the interview already two weeks ago. Via mail. I thought I had to do it in person, but Troy asked them to send their questions via mail so we could answer them. It was the best option given my condition. Two weeks ago I looked and felt a lot worse. But I wanted to do it. I have to stay present in the media in order for my company to survive in the business.

* * *

I open the bow of the Francesco Russo shoes before I slip out of them. As beautiful as they are, my hips are pulsing in pain.

"Here." Troy says, handing me two pain killers and a glass of water. He knows me inside out.

Two hours later and I am exhausted. I gulp the pills down, "I had no idea photoshoots take this long."

"Well we did take a lot of photos today." he says and I watch his lips form a big smile. I turn around and watch Miley walking in, carrying our daughter. She has wrapped Adaline around her upper body. "She's asleep." Miley whispers as she reaches us.

"For how long?"

"Basically the whole two hours you guys were flirting with each other in front of a lens."

I roll my eyes at her, "We weren't flirting."

"You sure? Cause I've watched you guys from the dining room. And you guys looks... man, you looked like you were ready to tear each other's clothes off."

"You spied on us?" Troy asks her.

"Just a little bit... I didn't hear what you guys were whispering to each other, though." her bright blue eyes look at my husband, "You are such a pro with the camera."

"I've had a lot of photoshoots in the last years." he answers casually, "It teaches you one thing or another."

I roll my eyes at him, "There's nothing you can't do."

He looks at me and I gulp as I see the guilt in his eyes, "I didn't prevent it."

I inhale sharply as words fail me.

"Okay, we're going upstairs so you guys can have some time alone..." Miley says to us before almost running away from us.

I stare into my husband's eyes, allowing him to make me feel his emotions. I feel his guilt, his sorrow, his pain, his anger, his disappointment, his gratitude, his love... I feel everything - and it overwhelms me like it always did in the last weeks. "It's not fair." I say back to him as my fingers start opening his silver Armani tie.

"It's the truth." he says back as I free his neck from the tie.

I watch how the silk tie glides through my hands, "Krimov is going to be here shortly. I don't want to do this right now. I can't deal with your pain, my pain, Miley's uncomfortably, Adaline's fatigue... Let's stick to one thing please. Make one step at a time. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't his fault. It happened. It's over. I am alive and still head over heels in love with you. No matter how much you blame yourself for the pain they caused me."

His fingertips lift up my chin, "Don't make me want to love you more than I already do."

I bite my lip, "Sometimes I'm afraid that my heart will burst out of love, too." I promise him back.

"This is hard..."

I close my eyes as I feel his forehead against mine, "I know. It's hard for me, too."

He kisses me softly, "What do you want to discuss with Krimov?"

I brush through his hair, "How much money do you need to built a firm?"

He frowns at me, "A firm? It depends. What kind of firm?""Security firm." I precise my questions with a smile on my lips.

"Are you saying what I think you are?" he asks me surprised.

I nod, "Get your check book. We're going to fulfil a wish now." I say as I hear the door bell ringing.

There's a smile on his lips before he disappears in his study. I wince as I start walking barefoot through the living room. The two pills weren't enough for the pain. My hip still hurts as I walk through the foyer. There's a new bouquet of white peonies on the round table and the smell starts filling my nostrils. I love peonies.

With a smile on my lips, I open the door. "Wladimir, come in."

The former FBI-Profiler walks in, his grey eyes look surprised as they see me dressed in such an outfit. "Were you at work today?"

"Photoshoot for Forbes Magazine." I explain my outfit with a shrug.

"You look good."

Compared to how I looked like the last time he saw me, I really do look good.

 _Flashback_

 _I take another sip of the herbal tea before pulling the cashmere blanket tighter around my body. It's high summer, yet I feel icy cold. My body's still dealing with the torments and it's after effects. I've been home for two weeks now, yet I feel not as good as I should. Dr. Gardener prohibited a tough recovery process, but I had no idea it'd be this hard. Getting up, going into the bathroom, walking down the stairs... moving in any way is still so painful. I know it's because of the bruised bones in my body. The bruised bones are the worst. Worse than any hematoma, any cut... My eyes are still a bit blood shot, the countless cuts on my body are still healing, which is slow due to my iron deficiency. I'm still on pain killers and pills for my liver. Every now and then I get an IV, too. It's a nightmare. Recovering is a nightmare. But I survived. I am alive..._

 _The sun in shining bright through the glass facade, blending my vision. I am sitting in the living room as a change of scenery. It took me the whole morning to find the strength to walk downstairs, though. But my mind is stronger than my body is. Troy doesn't call me stubborn for no reason. My husband is constantly running around, switching from businessman to father to loving partner. I watch him doing what I can't, taking care of our daughter in ways I wish I was able to. The worries in my head don't help with my recovery process, but I just hope he won't have a breakdown. He's in constant stress and I have no idea when he finds the time to relax properly. I love him, but right now I am the biggest burden in his life._

 _"Mrs. Bolton," I hear a voice saying my name._

 _I turn my head around and watch my Russian bodyguard stopping in his movement as he sees me. His bright grey eyes are filled with guilt and sorrow. Troy is standing behind him and I am once more in awe of his dominance filling the room. Wearing light beige colored linen trousers and a white button down shirt, he looks breathtaking as always. He's my protection shield. He's the hand I can hold on to. Yet he knows exactly when I need a little time alone._

 _Krimov's lips form a thin line as he finds the strength to walk over to me and I know he has never seen anyone as demolished as me._

 _"Krimov..." I breathe out as he sits down next me. My fingers wrap around the cup as I feel unease. He's too close._

 _He must've read my body language because I feel calmer when he moves further apart. I'm fucked up. Completely fucked up..._

 _"I came to apologize." he says in a strict voice and I know he's holding his emotion in control. It's the same way Troy speaks to me when he's at the edge of crying. He switches into business mode, protecting both himself and me._

 _I shake my head, "You did nothing wrong. You don't have to apologize for what happened."_

 _"I was your bodyguard. I was with you to protect you. I was-" he stops as I place my hand on his. There is clotted blood on some cuts on my hands, other cuts are still open. My nails have been cut short. A few nails have ripped. My hands are just one sign of my fucked-up-ness._

 _"It's okay. I forgive you." I whisper into his eyes and watch them getting glassy. I close my eyes, fighting the tears in my eyes, too._

 _End of Flashback_

"The makeup is covering all of it. That and two painkillers." I answer as we walk into the living room.

"Oh... well, it worked." he sounds worried.

"Why are you so worried?" I ask him as he sits down on the big grey couch.

His eyes dance down my body, "I think you're going to fire me, but your body language says something else."

"You should listen to what you've learned and not what tricks your mind is playing with you." I say back, sitting down next to him. I watch Troy appearing with a piece of paper in his hands and I smile.

"You sure my mind is not playing tricks on me? I enjoy working for you. You are important to me." Wladimir asks me, "I will never forget how mad he was at me when I told him I lost you."

My eyes look away from my husband and I stare into glassy worried orbs. Oh for christ sake, is he full of guilt as well? I place my hand on his, "I am okay. I survived. I am home. Everything's fine. No one is going to get fired today."

"Really?"

"Yes." Troy says as he reaches out. He hands him the check.

I watch Wladimir's grey eyes widen, "35 million pounds?" he asks in shock.

I look at Troy. 35 million pounds? You need that much to open a security agency? I didn't even had that much money when I started Unfaithful records. It seems to be a lot...

"Is that my pay-off?" Wladimir asks, his eyes unable to move from the check.

"No. We still want you to work for us." Troy answers and I watch the two men sharing a look. I see gratitude and respect...

"What we want is you to fulfill your dream." I say to Wladimir.

His eyes widen as they look into mine, "This is... You're giving me this for..." he fails at his words.

"Yes. I want you to open your own security agency. Preferably close to us. This should cover all your costs and keep you over water for the first few months in case things don't go as well. Which I don't think will happen, since a lot of wealthy people want proper safety. Safety, which you - no matter what happened - gave us and hopefully continue giving us."

"Wow... I didn't... I don't know what to say." he says, looking at Troy again, "Thank you."

"It was her idea." he says, his eyes looking at me genuinely.

Wladimir looks back at me, "Thank you."

"You deserve it." I say with a smile on my lips.

"We have some conditions though." Troy starts and my head swings around. Conditions? I don't have any conditions. "First, I want you to continue working for us. Not on a regular basis since the danger we used to be in, clearly is no longer there. Second, I want your firm to be close to us - I think London has a few properties that will suit your taste. Our real estate agent will contact you. Third, I want you to take a few MI6 and Scotland Yard people into your team. Some of my connections seem to be... unhappy with their current situation. They need a change of scene. They need exactly what you will offer. I think it should be about six or seven. I'll mail you their data and you can make your own choice."

Wladimir nods, "That seems fair."

"You don't have to do it, if you don't want to." I say, giving Troy a look. How dare he tell him who to hire!

Wladimir looks back at me, "I think it's a good idea. I have a few friends who are former FBI, CIA and NSA. They would want to work for me. It'll work out... I just never got around in planning this whole thing. Finding a space... a firm name... I was too busy with..."

"With us." I say with a smile on my lips.

"I enjoyed every second taking care of you." he says to Troy, "You have an extraordinary wife, daughter and family. I'm glad I got to be part of that for a while."

"Just wait until Adaline is able to go to school or heaven forbid have dates. You'll be the third pair of eyes for us then."

Wladimir chuckles, "I wouldn't want it any other way."

* * *

 **A new chapter! I hope you enjoyed reading this one! :) So far, I still have a lot of plans for this story - get excited for the content that's about to come!**

 **Please review!**

 **Xoxo**


	11. Chapter 11

I release my hair from the bun on top of my head, freeing the soft waves that were created. I'm wearing black sheer stockings and laced panties. My feet are still cozy in the warm UGG slippers. I haven't decided whether to wear heels or flats with my floor length dress. Heels are sexy, but I don't know if my hips can already handle the shift of my body weight they are causing. At least not for such a long time. Perhaps flats are the better option. Chanel ballerinas in black. Comfortable and hidden under the hem of my dress. Suddenly, I feel his eyes burning it's way beneath my skin and I look to my right. He's leaning in the doorway of our closet, wearing an Armani suit in black with the matching bow that's still open. He looks breathtaking and dangerous, seductive and mesmerizing. Better than 007 ever could.

"Are you just going to stand there gazing?" I ask him, biting my lip as I remember that this is exactly why I love going to ballet with him.

"Yes." His eyes reflect the smirk his lips are forming.

"Too bad, I could use some helping hands with my dress." I say, looking up to the floor length black Valentino dress. It's made out of velvet with long lace sleeves to hide some of my bruises which are still visible. Tonight will be the first time after Adaline's birth and my kidnapping that we're going out in public. Well aware of the many paparazzi waiting for us.

I watch him walking over to me and I hear him sigh as his hands reach out for the dress that's hanging above me. I couldn't reach it even if I wanted to. Carefully, he frees the dress from the hanger before handing it over to me. I get into it, being grateful for my healed hips. Bruised hips were one of the worst pains in my life.

"No bra?" He asks me as he zips up the back of the dress.

I shake my head, "My rips are too bruised. It would still be too uncomfortable. I don't know how you survived the weeks of healing your bruised rips. It is so painful!" I feel his warm palms resting on my shoulders, "But I am wearing stockings as a sexy change for the DVT stockings that I've been wearing for the last six weeks while I rested in our bed." I joke and turn around. As I look at him I see that my joke has hit a nerve - straight in his heart. I watch his eyes filling with tears, his lips start to shake. Suddenly, his emotions hit me mercilessly as I feel his pain, guilt, fear and gratefulness. I gulp, trying to prevent the tears from forming in my eyes too. He rarely has those moments with me. Moments in which he shows me how much I mean to him. Moments in which he is not the strong hero everyone likes to see in him. Moments in which there are no walls between us. "Hey, I am fine." I say, my fingers fondling his cheeks. "I am alright. I'm healing. I survived."

"Barely." His broken whisper rings in my ears and I feel my heart shattering.

"But I hung in there." I run my thumb over his shaking lower lip.

"Because of me."

"Because of us." It's heartbreaking to see him like this.

He closes his eyes, refusing to let tears roll down his cheeks. As he opens them again, they are not as glassy as before. "If we weren't in the situation we are... if it was just the two of us... I would have left you to protect you. But I am a selfish man and we are in a different situation. I have a daughter with you. A life and family and I'd be damned if I ever left this behind to protect you guys."

"Good." I say nodding, "because I am just as selfish and I would have followed you to the end of the world if necessary. Anything just to be with you."

He closes his eyes and sighs before he softly presses his forehead against mine, "Every fight, every single argument... it seems so stupid."

I brush through his hair, my eyes focussing his blue orbs, "I know... I know." I repeat.

"I could have lost you so easily."

"But you didn't." I say back.

"I didn't... God, I love you so much..."

"I love you, too." I whisper back before I feel his lips crashing against mine. Like always his kisses take my breath away as he fills them with more passion than I could ever feel. I return his kiss, wanting it to never stop. He can make me feel his love so easily - and I still wonder about the amount of love he feels for me. I wish I could signalize my love for him the way he does to me. As he lets go I feel dizzy, loved and happy.

"I wish we could do more than that." his whisper awakes my libido so easily.

"I wish that, too." I whisper back before kissing him softly.

"I need more..." he says, resting his forehead against mine.

"Me, too." I whisper. How much I wish I would have healed already. "But I guess we have to reschedule that."

A chuckle escapes my husband's lungs, "Yes. Just like with the ballet."

* * *

"Ready?" his whisper reaches my ears as my eyes stare at the craziness that's happening in front of Royal Albert Hall. There are hundreds of photographers standing in line, taking photo after photo. Some news reporter are here, too. There's a red carpet rolled out, where celebrities are walking on. It's a the hottest event at Royal Albert Hall of the year so far. Even the British Royalty should come.

I turn my head around, staring into sincere bright blue orbs, "Yes." I say as the black Porsche stops at the edge of the red carpet. I take a deep breath as I watch Krimov getting out of the car, walking around it and opening the door. Loud voices and clicking cameras start filling my ears as my husband gets out first. Taking his hand, I get out as well. Immediately, I notice all the photographers turning their lenses on us.

"Mr. Bolton over here!"

"Mrs. Bolton one smile!"

We lace our hands and he shows me a small smile, telling me I can do this. I survived a freaking kidnapping, a shooting and four days of torture - yet I don't seem to find the strength to walk down a freaking carpet. But I have to. Not only for my husband, I have to do it for myself. For my company. It's a comeback - I have to make a statement to get high numbers. I don't like it, but it's the way this business works.

We walk down the carpet and I barely see anything due to the many flashlights. To my surprise, my body doesn't react with a headache to this kind of noise. Maybe I am made for the spotlight after all…

* * *

I take a sip of the champagne as my eyes look through the ball room of Royal Albert Hall. We have about 30 minutes for the ballet to start and my husband is already in his seventh business conversation. I've been his arm candy for the last hour - and I don't mind being it for once. Every now and then I see a photographer taking photos of us, but I try to ignore it. There's a loud noise filling my ears. People are chatting, laughing, flirting - enjoying their time.

"Gabriella," I hear a voice saying my name.

My head swings around, away from my husband and I see a man I thought I'd never see again in my life. "Sebastian." I breathe out, amazed by the coincidence. I can't believe my eyes! It's been years since I've last seen him... and truth to be told, time has not been bad to him. He looks as sexy as ever. I allow my eyes to fully acknowledge the man across me. His dark blonde hair, those dark green eyes, his tanned, toned body wrapped in a black suit... yes, this man can certainly be called a womanizer.

"Wow, we haven't seen each other for... what eight years?" his dark green eyes dance down my body as his smile shows me his pearly white teeth.

"Yes, something about that." I say with a shrug. A lot has happened in these eight years... "How have you been?"

"Good, I'm in town for a business event. I work at the Wall Street in New York." he trails off, his eyes still dancing up and down my body. "God, you have gotten even more beautiful..."

Suddenly, I start feeling uncomfortable and I blush. "Well, I'm glad we've run into each other here."

"Yes. Going to ballet was the best decision..." he gulps, "How are Ryan and Sharpay?"

I bite my lip, my step brother and step sister, who was also his girlfriend when we had that thing... "Ryan's doing really good."

"He's working as a model, right?"

"Yeah, he's flying all over the world. Photoshoot after photoshoot..."

"Is he doing New York Fashion week and London Fashion week as well?"

I shake my head, "No. He's more the commercial and pictures kind of model."

"I think I saw his advert for Calvin Klein at Piccadilly Circus the other day."

I nod, "Yes that was him. He was really excited about it."

He smiles at me, his eyes finally stopping as they look at mine. "You are as confident as you were back at Constance."

"Confidence was never a weakness of mine." I confirm with a little smile on his lips. Although back at Constance I acted... now, I really am confident.

His eyes move down to my left ring finger. Even in the dimmed light, my wedding rings are sparkling. "I heard you're married to-" his dark green eyes widen.

"Troy Bolton." I hear my husband's voice as his left hand laces with mine. "The husband."

I roll my eyes at Troy's comment. There is no need to mark his territory.

"Sebastian Benetton. Former classmate of your wife."

I watch the men shake hands and gulp as Troy's clouded blue orbs look at me. Sebastian has hit a nerve - and maybe caused a flashback. Troy knows exactly who he is and what he meant to me. He was the first man I wanted to have sex with - the first time I enjoyed it. He gave me my first orgasm. Something that seems to bother my husband more than me.

"It's such a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bolton." Sebastian is fire and flame for my husband. Troy Bolton has everyone under his spell the moment he looks at them. Suddenly, he forgot that I am standing next to him. "I'm very impressed by the work of Bolton's Enterprises."

My husband nods, "What's your field of work?"

"Stockings."

I can feel my husband's ring finger fondling mine, running back and forth over my wedding rings. "Interesting."

"If you ever feel the need to go public with your firm..."

"I'll let you know, Mr. Benetton."

I let out a sigh as the bell rings through the ball room. The sign for us to go in to find our places. Finally, I couldn't take more of this alpha male competition. "We should head inside." I say with a smile on my lips.

Sebastian's head swings around, his eyes acknowledging me again. "Yes. Perhaps we sit next to each other."

"We have a box." Troy says for me as we follow the crowd through the hallway. His body is already tensed.

"Oh well, enjoy the show." Sebastian smiles at my husband before his eyes look at me again. He parts his lips for a second, before his tongue runs over his lips.

I gulp, if he's going to send any more signs like that my husband will be all over him. My husband squeezes my hand before he pulls me away from Sebastian. Away from my past and towards my present and my future.

* * *

Ballet dancers in pretty tutus are dancing on the stage of Royal Albert Hall. Ballerinas are portraying the third act of Tchaikovsky's swan lake. We're sitting in one of the boxes. Just like with our original seats, we've booked the whole box, which has six seats, for us - plus Krimov. I didn't want anyone gossiping about us. For the last two and a half hours we've been sitting here watching the stage. It's beautiful to watch the ballerinas but what's to my left is even more beautiful.

I tilt my head to the side, being mesmerised by my husband's fascination. The scene changes as grand finale is happening on stage now but I couldn't care less. I love ballet because I love seeing this fascination in my husband's eyes. There's rarely anything better than this. I shift my weight again and feel my back responding with a pulsing pain even though I took painkillers. The pain is getting worse with every minute passing but I don't want to ruin this evening again. We already rescheduled it and I should be strong enough to stay here until the end. I bite my lip to suppress a wince.

Closing my eyes I inhale, "Troy," I start.

"It's beautiful isn't it?"

"Yes." I agree with a small smile on my lips, "Troy..."

"This grace and dignity in every move... the physics. Those women are true artists."

I can't be here any longer. I am in too much pain. "Troy," I say again, placing my hand on his shoulder.

His head swings around and I watch his eyes turning from mesmerised to worried.

"We have to go home." I whisper with a sad smile on my lips. I didn't want to ruin this evening. I wanted a normal evening.

He raises from the chair without another word from me. Once again he shows me that he would leave everything for me. "Can you walk?" He asks me with worry in his eyes.

I hate it when his eyes are clouded. "I don't know." I say back as I carefully rise from the chair. A sharp pain starts going through my body as I try to straighten my figure. For a moment I hope I can walk with a round back but I quickly dismiss the thought as I feel pain hitting me once more. "No. No, I don't think I can walk out of here."

"Okay..." he brushes through his hair before his eyes move over to Krimov who has been sitting in the back. "I need you to hold the door open for me."

"Door open?" I ask before his idea hits me, "oh no you will not carry me out of here."

"Gabriella, I won't stand here and discuss my decision with you. Right now it's still dark and the finale is still going on. Plus the five minutes of applause we have about ten to get you out of here without too many noticing. It takes two minutes to get to our car. This is the best option we have. The only option. So forgive me but you can be mad at me when we're at home and you are pain free." He says before picking me up.

I close my eyes before sighing. In his arms I feel safe and sound.

"This is so embarrassing!" I say as Troy carries me out of the box. Krimov walks ahead of us. Luckily the hallway is empty just like Troy predicted. I stare at the dark red carpet wishing for no one to come. It's silent in here and I listen to Troy's footsteps. As embarrassing as this is I am thankful that I don't have to walk. The whole way through the hallway and down the stairs seems so long. Suddenly a flash appears and I know that someone has taken a picture of us.

"Someone just took a picture of us." I mumble into Troy's ear as he carries me down the stairs.

"Don't worry. No one will think I carried you because of the huge amount of pain you are suffering from right now. They think I do it because I love you so badly. Which I do."

"Yes you do." I say with a grin on my lips.

"See? There's nothing to worry about."

I roll my eyes as he carries me down the steps. "There's always a light at the end of the tunnel, isn't there?"

"Oh and it's shining bright." He agrees with me as he carries me out of Royal Albert Hall. Our black Porsche is already waiting for us. Krimov walks around the car and opens a door for us before getting seated behind the wheel. Carefully, my husband places me on the rear bench before he gets seated next to me. He shuts the door and Krimov drives off.

"Do you have any more pills in your purse?"

"No. I already took them all."

"How many were that?"

"Two." I say biting my lip.

"The stronger ones?"

I shake my head, "Maybe that's why I don't feel better."

He nods, "When?"

"Sixty three and twenty two minutes ago." I say as I watch his brain calculating my next dosage.

"Okay... You can have one of the stronger pills. Or some drops. But you need to eat first."

"I'm not hungry."

"I know but eat a banana anyway. You need something in your stomach."

"Okay..." God, he's the most perfect husband in the world. Suddenly, he hugs me and carefully pulls me on his lap. His hand starts stroking my back while the fingers of his free hand brush through my hair. I place my head on his chest, my vision seeing the London buildings passing us. The traffic is not so bad, which means we get home quicker than we thought. "I didn't want to ruin our evening."

"You didn't ruin our evening. It's a side effect I should have calculated in. I didn't."

"I love you."

"I love you, too." His lips kiss my temples.

* * *

 **A new chapter! I hope you enjoyed reading.** **Please review!**

 **Xoxo**


	12. Chapter 12

_The most glamorous comeback of the year!_

 _Troy and Gabriella Bolton were seen at the Royal Albert Hall watching a ballet performance. While Troy was wearing an Armani suit, his wife chose a long sleeve laced Valentino dress in black as well. The couple didn't stop at the red carpet to take pictures, but were later caught in several conversations by the press inside the Royal Albert Hall. Married life seems to suit the scandalous couple as they were both sparkling. Both seemed to enjoy their first public outing since the birth of their baby back in April. Nevertheless, they left the ballet performance earlier - not without getting caught by the paparazzi. The married couple seemed very much in love as Troy was seen carrying his wife down the stairs (picture on the right)._

* * *

"Gabriella!" I hear my husband calling my name from the bathroom. Putting on one of his shirts, I walk out of the closet. It's early, yet the Bolton household is already wide awake. Adaline has already had her breakfast while Troy went out for a run. I rush into the bathroom and stop as I see him standing in the shower, wearing Armani briefs and a grey shirt. He has already showered as his hair is still damp. I feel my body reacting with stress to the image. A shower… He's standing in a shower.

"It's time." his voice is soft and calm.

I shake my head, "No…"

"You can't hide in our fucking room when there's a storm happening outside this house for the rest of your life. You need to face this fear."

"No…"

"Yes. You are afraid of the rain. Sometimes the rain makes things so bad that you won't take a shower. You haven't showered in six weeks. You bathed."

"I can bath for the rest of my life."

"Gabriella…"

"It'll go away. When the rain stops it'll go away, I'll be fine."

"Being ok when it doesn't rain isn't the same as being fine."

"I used to push everyone away. I used to run away from every conflict. I used to feel nothing when I looked at our daughter. Right now I don't shower. When the rain stops, I will take a shower. I'm fine."

He sighs before walking over to the window. He opens the milky glassed window, revealing a sunny day. "It doesn't rain now. It rains in your head. It always rains in your head and it will continue raining in your head until you get yourself together and take a step into our shower."

"Please don't make me do that."

"I'm trying to help. I don't want you to be okay. I want you to be fine. I want you to be standing under a freaking shower head with water running down your body without feeling the urge to run into our fucking room and lock yourself in it."

"I'd take Adaline with me and you know it."

"Yes I do, because you did it the last time I wasn't home. But I am done with waking up in an empty bed because my wife hides in a room that has no windows." he walks over to me, his body full of tension. He places his hands on my shoulders, his glance not leaving mine. He's serious. As serious as he can be. "You need help and I am offering it to you."

I bite my lip, "Dr. Wyatt-"

"Dr. Wyatt doesn't see what I see. Dr. Wyatt doesn't feel what I feel. Dr. Wyatt can't help you the way I can. Do you want my help?"

"I…"

"Gabriella, do you want my help?"

"Yes."

He closes his eyes and exhales, "Good." he says before leaving me alone in the bathroom. My eyes wander to the end of the marbled room. I used to love taking showers. I used to love feeling the water running down at me, the prickling feeling when hot water touched my skin… Now, now I feel a panic attack coming every time I hear rain. I thought he would make me go under the shower head. I thought he'd force me. I thought he'd guide me through my panic attack. But he left. He left me alone in this big bathroom with that scary shower. I exhale, no that's not going to happen today.

Suddenly, he appears next to me in the bathroom again, holding up a transparent umbrella.

"What is this?" I ask him confused, yet I get the hint.

"We will get into that shower with a protection shield." he holds up the umbrella.

"I don't think this is a good idea."

He sighs, "You want my help and now let me guide you through this. What you feel is common for those who suffered from waterboarding. You don't have to be ashamed of it but we do need to fix this problem.", he holds up his hand "I need my wife back."

"Troy…"

"Give me my wife back."

I sigh before I take his hand. We walk over to the the shower with the glass door. The rain shower head is shining in silver. He opens the glass door and steps in. I let go of his hand as I feel a shiver going down my spine.

"I'm not turning the water on." he promises me.

I shake my head as I feel tears building in my eyes, "I can't…"

He places the umbrella against the marble wall in our shower before taking both of my hands, "You can do this. You are strong enough."

I shake my head, my lips are now shaking. I hold tight on the doorknob of the glass door. I can't take a step into this shower…"No, I can't…"

He fingers brush through my hair, "I believe in you."

I feel a tear rolling down my cheek as his lips touch mine. His kiss is soft, full of tenderness and love. I forget everything around me as I surrender in his kiss and my feelings for him. My hand lets go of the doorknob before I brush through his silky hair as I deepen the kiss. Suddenly, I feel his hand on my hips lifting my body before I feel steady ground beneath me again. Abruptly, I let go of his lips. Everything I forgot for a moment starts coming back to me. My breath quickens as I notice where I am. I am standing in the shower. Under the silver shinning rain shower head.

"You…" my lips start shaking, "you tricked me into this." I breathe out, feeling the urge to run and hide in our fucking room again.

But his grip on my arms stop me, "I'm here."

My glance meets his and I bite my lip, "Please don't make me stay. Let me go."

"I'll be damned if I ever let you go. I need to fix you. You need to be fixed. You need to overcome your fears… You need this as much as I do." his hand reaches out for the umbrella. "So, leave the door open or close it?"

I look to my left, seeing the open glass door. My escape. "We'll float the whole bathroom if we leave the door open."

"I don't care. But if you need an open door, a way to run, while there's water running down then we will leave the freaking door open." his voice is soft, yet his words are not. "Open or closed?"

"Open." I say before looking at him.

"Okay." he agrees with me before opening the transparent umbrella. "Ready?"

"No." I say but he turns on the water anyway. I hear the water clashing against the umbrella. It's loud… it's so loud… I feel panic overcoming me and I try to release myself from my husband's embrace. "Let me out! Let me out!" I start screaming as panic overcomes me. It's getting harder for me to breathe. I try to not close my eyes, I don't want to remember. I don't want to remember…

"I'm here…" he whispers into my ear as my body starts shaking, reacting to the stress. His arm around my body holds me tight. It should give me comfort. I feel tears building in my eyes as I focus on the open glass door. Water is floating out of the shower and I have the urge to run and hide in the fucking room again. Our feet start getting wet as water starts collecting on the floor.

Suddenly, I feel the grip of my husband's embrace releasing and for a moment I want to use it as my advantage. But to my surprise his hand closes the glass door, blocking my exit.

"I want to get out." I say with tears rolling down my face as memories of my torture starts crossing my mind. I close my eyes. My fingers wrap around his wrist. I want to get out. I need to get out of the water. My finger nails start digging into his wrist. He won't listen to my cries. He has heard all versions in the last weeks. "Please, let me out…" I beg him as I open my eyes. His bright blue orbs look into mine, realizing what he's doing me. He's torturing me not less than they did.

"Fine." he says, turning the water off. I can see the sorrow in his eyes as he closes the umbrella. I shiver as I open the door and get out of the shower. I barely make it out I notice as I suddenly fall to the ground. I tuck my knees in and lean against the free standing bath tub I got to known so well in the last six week. "Don't you ever do this to me again!" I yell at him, hearing the echo of my voice. "You don't need to fucking fix me!"

My eyes watch my husband mirroring my position, as he gets seated on the floor as well. Unlike me, he decided to sit down in the wet shower with the umbrella behind him. This is not what I call leaving me alone - this is the opposite.

"I'm sorry." he apologizes. I can see his guilt reflecting in his eyes.

He should be. "What are you doing?" I ask him confused.

"I'm going to sit here until you decide to give me another chance and take a step into this shower." he bits his lips, "I won't eat or sleep before you join me."

I frown, "You're protesting?"

"Yes."

"That will turn just into another disaster."

"Maybe… maybe not." he leans against the marble wall, his bright blue eyes looking at me.

"I won't take a step into that shower ever again."

"Okay. We can destroy it with a hammer and build a new one in." he offers.

I shake my head in disbelief.

"But that won't be a solution to your problem, since we have six other showers in this house." he starts, "Six other potential panic attacks that is."

"I won't step into the shower."

"You will because you love me." his words are full of faith in me.

I bite my lip, "My love for you won't save me this time."

"It saved you when you got tortured. It will save you again."

I brush through my hair before tightening the grip around my legs. "I won't do it."

"Okay, then I won't move."

"What if your work calls?"

"I won't move."

"What if Adaline awakes and wants to see you?"

His lips form a thin line, "I'm not going to move."

"You will and you know it. One emergency and you're out of there sooner than you can take another blink."

He sighs, "Gabriella, you are the only emergency I have right now."

"I am fine."

"You are not fine. You hide in a room that is meant for pleasure."

"I took Adaline with me!" I protest.

"You wince every time there is water dropping. You let me run your baths and only come in when the tub is full and there are no bubbles. You don't enjoy bathing. You do it because you have to. You are not fine."

"Fine! I am not fine! Is this what you want from me? I have a problem! I am traumatized! I am a fucking wreck and fucking afraid of rain! Because it makes me feel like dying all over again. Is that what you want from me? To admit I have a problem?"

"No, I want you to take a step into this shower." his voice is calm, his eyes filled with pride as he sees what I see: we're having a breakthrough.

"I've said it before: I won't step into this shower."

"I could force you again. I could seduce you to take a step into this. But I won't. Because it won't help. You need to want to get into this shower in order to solve this problem. You need to want this."

"But I don't."

"Which is why we will sit here until you do."

"Fine." I agree with him, leaning against the tub. My eyes meet his and we just stare at each other. I can hear the birds singing outside our house, but inside of me it's raining. It's just like he said. Inside of me it's always raining. It's a stormy, cloudy, rainy time right now. It scares the shit out of me. I am not longer welcomed by the silence I had the last hours I was tortured, no I hear constant rain. I feel the constant edge of death. And. I. Can't. Stop. The. Rain.

Suddenly, I hear his phone ringing in the bedroom. It's probably his office wondering where th hell he is. Usually by this time he is already conducting his empire with his brother by his side. "Your phone is ringing."

"I know. I can hear that."

I raise an eyebrow at him, "Don't you wanna get it?"

"No." his features are relaxed, his lips form a small smile as the ringing stops. "It's not as important as this is."

Suddenly, my phone rings in our bedroom. "Unlike you, I plan to answer my phone." I say as I rise from the floor. I walk through the marbled bathroom and over to the nightstand where my phone is. Looking at the display before I pick up, I know it's Lucas who is calling.

"Where is he?"

"I believe Troy won't make it to the office today." I say as I walk back into the bathroom. My husband raises his eyebrow at me.

"We have an important meeting in an hour. It requires both of us."

"Well, guess this meeting will be held with only one Bolton brother then." I say as I get seated on the floor again. This time I sit down right in front of the open glass door of the shower. My husband straightens his posture before leaning forward. I lean back as I know he wants to get my phone in his hands.

"He better be busy with something important."

"I told him I am fine, but he thinks otherwise." I say back.

"She's afraid of rain! She's having panic attacks!" Troy calls into the phone.

"This is about you?" Lucas voice is soft and calm out of the sudden.

I bite my lip, "Yes."

"Okay. I'll reschedule the meeting. When do you think he can make it?"

"Whenever he takes a step out of the shower."

"He's showering?!" Lucas' voice is full of anger. "Why the hell is he showering?! He won't be under the shower for the whole day, will he?"

"I think that's the plan."

"And he thinks I am irresponsible." with that Lucas hangs up.

I rise from the floor and place the phone on the window sill. I take a peek outside, seeing the shining sun, the blue sky and the singing birds. There's sunshine, happiness outside… while there's still rain inside of me. I sigh before I turn around. "I think you're going to face a very angry Lucas whenever this is over." I say as I sit down across him - outside the shower.

"He'll understand." his voice is full of faith and his smile is bright.

"I don't have your patience. I can't sit here all day doing nothing."

"We're not doing nothing. We working on your issues."

"This is not going to work." I say again, brushing through my hair.

"I'm sorry for torturing you. I didn't mean to... I want to help you." His voice is a whisper that echoes in my bones.

I meet his glance, feeling my heart sink to the floor. "I surrendered when they waterboarded me. When they abused me... I thought of you and me... and everything in between."

"Tell me of what you thought of."

There's a smile on my lips, "Random sceneries... nothing special."

"Everything with us is special."

"I thought of that one morning... you woke me up by kissing me and I wondered what I did to deserve you. Up until today I ask myself this question. You told me you wanted to wake up next to me for the rest of your life. I believed you. Like I always did and still do. Your words touched something in me that goes beyond any words. Sometimes your words and your eyes... you touch a part of me that no one else ever will."

He smiles at me, "You have the same effect on me."

"You never told me."

"I never felt the need to. I thought you knew. I thought... you felt it."

"I did. I always do. It's why I knew you loved me when you couldn't say it back."

"Am I an open book to you?"

A laughter escapes my lungs, "I am still trying to reveal the mystery Troy Bolton is. I think this is a task of life. And maybe beyond that."

He smiles, "I'm happy to never bore you."

"You can carve that in stone."

"Well, I can happily inform you that your name should be right next to mine then."

I raise an eyebrow at him, "I am a mystery?"

"Not a mystery but surely a task of life."

"You signed up for that."

"Oh yes I did and I will never regret this decision. In fact, it was the best decision of my life."

"I agree with you on that one."

"Do you want me to built a panic room?"

I lean back a little, "It wouldn't solve my problem, would it?"

"But it would solve my problem."

"Which is?"

"You using our fucking room as a hideaway. You use a room for pleasure as your sanctuary."

I shrug, "I feel safe in there."

"And you should. But you shouldn't hide in there from the world and the rain in your head."

I sigh before stretching out my feet. I watch my husband mirroring me and our feet meet right at the door frame. "We'll be sitting here for days..."

"Then we're going to sit here for days." He says, folding his hands.

"I won't step into the shower." I say looking at our connected feet.

"Okay, then I won't move until you do."

I look up at his eyes, "Why do you have so much patience with me?"

He tilts his head to the side, "You are the love of my life. You walked through hell more than anyone should. You survived abuse, raping, a shooting, a kidnapping… torture. I've seen what they did to you. Things so horrible that it made me want to kill them all over again. You are the strongest woman I'll ever know. You say I give you strength, when it's the other way around. You are the strong one in our relationship."

I bite my lip, fighting the urge to cry. "Yet I don't have the strength to step into a shower."

"Which is why we're here. You've never struggled with big problems. You can take any task with any risk, yet you fail at smaller ones. It's your weakness. I want to turn it into your strength."

I sigh, "What did I do to deserve you, Troy Bolton?"

"I ask myself this question every day." he answers back.

I bite my lip, "I can't step into that shower... I can't."

"Gabriella," he starts out of the sudden, his bright blue eyes focusing mine, "From the day we met, I knew I wanted to get married to you. I felt the bond which connects us right away. I fell in love with you right away, truly understanding that love at first sight does exist. You see my mistakes, my biggest flaws and yet you stay. You know my worst sides. You are the best side of me."

"Troy, stop..." I say as I remember his vows to me. "Don't..." I feel tears building in my eyes as I shake my head, trying to fight the emotions.

"With you, I feel complete. With you, I am myself. I promise to never run from you, if anything I run with you wherever you want me to. I vow that I will safeguard and hold dear and deep in my heart our union and you. I promise to love you faithfully, forsaking all others, through the good times and the bad, in sickness and in health, regardless of where life will take us. I will share in your joys and sorrows and comfort you in times of need. I promise to cherish you and uphold your hopes and dreams and keep you safe at my side. All that is mine is now yours. I give you my hand, my heart, and my love from this moment on for as long as we both shall live."

I tilt my head to the side, letting the salty tears roll down my face. "This is unfair."

"That was my promise to you." he says back, "And you know that I keep my promises."

Biting my lip, I rise from the floor and knot my fingers together. I watch my husband doing the same before offering me his hand.

"One more try." I say into his eyes.

He nods, "One more try. If it doesn't work, I get the hammer out and we destroy this thing."

A grin appears on my lips, "Is there anything you wouldn't do?"

"No." he says simply as I place my hands in his. Biting my lip, I take a step into the shower. The water has dried, the floor heating makes the marble as warm as it is on the other side of the shower. I take a deep breath before my left foot follows my right. I am standing in the shower. I am standing in the shower… I feel my heart starting to race again. I'm starting sweating and my lips start shaking.

"Are you okay?"

"No." I say back, my eyes looking up at his.

"Door open or closed?"

"Closed." I tell him what to do. I look up at the rain shower head. I am home. I am safe. I survived.

I watch him picking up the umbrella. "No, no umbrella this time."

"Okay…" he says before placing his hands on the tap. "Ready?"

"No." I say before he turns on the water. I feel warm water touching my skin with a kind of pressure I haven't felt in over seven weeks. My body reacts by shaking. I bite my lip. I can do this. I have to. I feel my mind about to remember what happened. I close my eyes, my hand squeezing my husband's. I feel my pulse rising, my breath quickens. I can do this. I can stand under a freaking shower.

 _They place a cotton cloth on my face before they pull my head back by pulling on my hair. The chair on which I am sitting on is almost parallel to the ground. I am scared. What will they do to me? Suddenly, icy cold water starts floating on my face. I start chocking as they don't stop. Water starts filling my lungs. It feels like drowning. I am dying. I feel a mixture of panic and peace. This is it. I won't survive. This is it…_

Opening my eyes, I let go of my husband's hands. I look up at him and see his beautiful eyes filled with so much sorrow and guilt that it rips me apart. Waterboarding is nothing compared to what I am feeling right now. It's nothing compared to what they created inside of my husband. He thinks I am traumatized, when he is just as scarred. "Get out." I say to him, as his eyes scan mine.

"No."

I let out a frustrated sigh before I place my hand on the tap. "I'm not asking you, I am telling you."

"Gabriella,"

"GET OUT!" I yell at him before turning the water to hot. "Leave me alone."

He sighs before stepping out of the shower. I feel the hot water touching my skin, creating a kind of redness I haven't seen for a while. It feels very hot, but it makes me alive. I close my eyes as memories start crossing my mind again.

 _I can't move. My wrists are chained to the ceiling, I am hanging in the air. It's a dark, hallow room._

 _"Gabriella Maria Anne Bolton…" there is a Russian accent to this male voice._

 _My eyes start scanning the area, but I don't see the matching human. Suddenly, I feel hands touching my back and I wince. I try to turn my head around, but all I see is a shoulder._

 _"How long have I waited to get my hands on Troy Bolton's wife…" this time he speaks in Russian. I try to free myself from the chains. I start kicking in the air. I have to get out. I have to survive. I have… I wince as I feel electricity rushing through my body. He has a taser. I scream out as the shocks strike through my body._

I let out a scream as I fall on the floor. The hot water feels no longer hot. I feel cold. I start sobbing. My hand reaches the tap and I turn the water to icy cold. I let out another scream, feeling goosebumps covering my skin. I am safe. I am home. "Please stop… please stop…" I am sobbing, my voice gets lost in my cries. I open my eyes as I hear my husband opening the shower door. I kick against it, closing his entrance. He wants to fix me. He needs to fucking let me do this my way. I can't see his figure clearly as steam has made the glass door milky. But I know he looks full of sorrow and guilt. I know my husband. My hand on the tap turns the water hot again and I scream out.

 _I watch him disinfecting his knife with a lighter. Carefully, he strikes the knife through the fire again and again. Six times in total. It's an Arabian man this time. I don't understand his language, but I can see his disgust for my husband in his eyes. I can see his hatred. And I can almost feel the satisfaction he is about to feel. I am tied to the silver chair again. With cable ties that cut into my wrists. I stopped begging hours ago. I feel like a toy and everyone gets to play with me. He's going to cut me with his knife. He walks over to me in fast steps before kneeing down in front of me._

 _"Gabriella Bolton…" he has several black teeth, I notice as his black eyes look into mine. He puts the knife near my face, stoking my skin with it. I close my eyes as I feel him cutting into my skin._

My eyes open as I start breathing heavily. I rise from the floor. I wince before my eyes look at my husband. With my fist I hit against the glass wall so hard that it shakes and almost cracks. "I've been through this because of you!" I start yelling at the figure across me. Steam starts rising quickly as the hot water starts burning my skin again. "This is your fault! I am fucked up because of you! They took revenge on me for you!" I yell, hitting the wall again - this time with the palm of my other hand. "I've been tortured again and again because of you!" I start crying hot salty tears, leaning against the glass wall with both palms. I watch him walking closer to me, placing his palms on mine. I'm ripping him apart like his past did with me. I don't want to blame him, but I can't help myself. I feel my back pulsing in pain as the hot water starts running down my body. Suddenly, my feet give up and I fall on my knees again. "You destroyed me." I breathe out, looking through the milky glass wall. "You destroyed me." I whisper again, before turning around. Leaning against the glass wall, I start sobbing.

 _I feel a kick in my stomach as I fly through the whole room. With my back I crash against the cement wall. Something cracked. I heard a crack in my body. I roll into an embryo position. Everything inside of me hurts. I won't survive this. I know I won't._

I look up as the water stops. I watch my husband lowering to the ground. His lips are shaking, his eyes are full of tears. I destroyed him too. He sits down next to me before pulling me into his arms. I sob into his wet black shirt. We destroyed each other. As we always did.

"You destroyed me and I still love you." I whisper into his shirt. His love made me survive this.

His fingers strike down my back, his chest breathing heavily. He got what he wanted. He wanted me to blame him so he could stop blaming himself. "I know…" he whispers back to me before kissing my head.

"Telling you I love you is not enough to put my feelings for you into words." I say as I raise my head from his chest.

His fingers brush through my hair, "I know."

I watch tears rolling down my husband's cheeks. I wipe them away, feeling just as broken and sorry as him. He catches my hands and kisses them.

* * *

 **Another chapter that I thought was extremely important for Gabriella's recovery. Please review!**

 **Xoxo**

 **Xoxo**


	13. Chapter 13

I sit down on the barstool, my eyes watching my husband across me. He fills two cups with coffee and one with milk for me. He's already dressed in a three piece suit. The dark navy fabric covers his glorious body and the silver tie around his neck is something I tied - my finishing touch to his outfit. Today's the first day he's going back to the office. After six weeks, I finally convinced him it's okay to leave us alone at home. That we'll be fine.

The sun is rising over the River Thames and strikes of lighting are filling the kitchen. Troy walks over to me and places the cup of coffee in front of me. I place my hand on his and watch our wedding bands sparkling in the light rays. These are the moments I missed so badly. He laces his fingers with mine before he kisses my knuckles. He missed them, too.

"I want to start working out again." I say, biting my lip.

"Go running in Richmond park again?" he asks before taking a sip of his coffee. "It's a good idea."

"I want Krimov to show me how I defend myself."

His jawline tightens, "I could do that."

I take a sip of my coffee, "No, you couldn't."

He opens his mouth, but I shut him off. "You couldn't because we both know how we'd end up once we see each other in tight clothing all alone. We'd be over each other before I can take another breath." I bite my lip, I'm finally able to do physical actives again although there is still a small pain in my hips. Nothing I can't handle.

His lips form a grin as his warm hands are on my hip, "Sex is the best work out."

I roll my eyes, "Sex is not what's going to help me defend myself."

His fingers brush through my hair, "And you think Krimov is going to be a better teacher than me?"

Sometimes I still wonder how he was able to kill the kidnappers - and then I remind myself that I would have done the same if I were in his position. Maybe even crueler than him. The thought of anyone touching him, torturing him... I sigh, "I trust him. He won't go easy on me like you would."

"He'll go easy on you if I ask him to."

"Please don't." I say, fondling his cheek. "I thought of maybe an hour three times a week. As a start."

"This means more time apart." he whispers and I know he doesn't like this idea.

I wrap my arms around his neck, "Just think of what we could do in the time we spend together. And some day... some day, I'm going to be able to keep up with your early morning long distance runs. Perhaps beat you." I smirk.

His blue eyes look into mine and for a moment I think he's going to start arguing with me. Instead I feel the grip of his hands on my hip tightening before he places me on the kitchen island. He doesn't give me time to react as his lips crash against find mine. He kisses me like we kissed never before, full of hunger and need. Our tongues start dancing, exploring each other's mouths.

As he lets go, I feel dizzy. "What was that for?" I ask him, still catching my breath. He hasn't kissed me like this in a long, long time.

He presses his forehead against mine, "I hate making deals, but there's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

I fondle his cheek, "I know…"

"Maybe I should stay here with you guys..."

I shake my head and kiss him softly, "No. Go to work. Kick some ass and save the world."

He chuckles, making me smile before he buries his nose in the nape of my neck. I close my eyes, inhaling his scent as well. I can feel the warmth of his body. I missed this so much...

"I missed this." His hot breath creates goosebumps on my skin.

"I missed this, too." I agree with him as his lips kiss my neck. It feels so wonderful...

"I don't want to leave you."

I brush through his hair, "When you come home we can continue with these kisses and those touches. As a reward for surviving your first day."

"Do you want to workout with Krimov today?"

I nod, "Yes. Maybe after breakfast and Adaline is still asleep. It would be a good time frame."

He bites his lips, "Then we're not having sex tonight."

"Why not?" I ask him in disappointment.

"Because you'll be sore tomorrow. Top that with me inside of you the whole night... you won't be able to walk the whole week."

I pout, "I can keep up with you. I showed you that."

"You did. But your body is also still recovering. Working out and a night with me will be too much. Trust me, my appetite for you is voracious."

"You don't want to hurt me." I breathe out, amazed by his self control.

"You felt enough pain in the last weeks..."

"I'm fine." I promise him.

"I know..." he trails of, nodding.

"But we are only ever going to be fine, if we spend some time alone. Hours of mind blowing sex like good old times."

"Good old times?" He chuckles, "We're no old wrinkly couple."

"Yet." I say laughing, "But one day..."

His blue orbs sparkle as they look into mine. "Yes. We will be."

It's a promise that goes straight to my heart.

"We should drive to Swansea this weekend. Show Adaline the beach house." he suggests. "The fresh sea air, the soft waves... she'll like it."

I nod, "Let's do it. Just the three of us."

"Just the three of us." He agrees with me.

* * *

There're birds singing and the sun is warming my skin as I walk through Richmond park, pushing the pram in front of me. It's a beautiful August evening as the sun coats the sky in pastel tones. Unlike me, Adaline doesn't cherish the beautiful weather as I do. She's already fast asleep again. After feeding her, I decided to take a walk in the park. Surprisingly, the park is not as crowded as I thought it would be. There are cyclists and a few other people walking around. Their eyes notice the Silver Cross which was a gift from Ryan and Kelsi. I should be used to people watching me, yet it creeps me out.

I stop at a newsstand seeing my and Troy's faces on the cover of Forbes Magazine. I totally forgot they were out yet...

 _Building an empire hand in hand - how the Boltons took the world in the blink of an eye_

I am leaning against my husband's strong torso, holding his silver silk tie in my hands. My right leg is bent as the heel of the Franceso Russo shoe is touching the wall behind him. His hands are on my hips, his eyes focusing mine. Why out of the world, did they had to pick such a picture? We're business people - CEOs. Not some trash celebrities. We don't do reality tv, lots of red carpets or cheap movies... we are business people. Yet, we look like we're caring more about each other than our business in the photo.

"Hey, is that you?" the seller of the newsstand asks me.

I look at him, "Yes." I pick up an issue before opening it. "How much do you want for it?" I ask him, as I fold through the pages. There's a whole section of photos of us.

"Oh you get it for free, my love." he says with a smile on his lips.

I hold it up, "Thank you." I say before continue walking. My phone rings in my bag as I push the pram. Fishing it out of the bag, I look at the display. Ryan send me a photo of our cover with the text: _OMG. Can you guys get any hotter?_

I roll my eyes before I stop at a bench and sit down. 'Just saw it. Picked it up at a newsstand in Richmond park. Totally forgot they released it. Troy didn't mention anything as well.' I text him back before opening the magazine. I see another picture of us. It's a close-up this time. My hands are around his neck and his are on my face. We're smiling at each other, looking deeply in love. I close my eyes, I didn't want this to turn into a love-interview. I wanted this to give a professional look at my work - not at my love life. I sigh as I start reading.

 _Love and work - a combination those two embody perfectly!_

 _Troy Bolton and his wife Gabriella have given us exclusive look inside their empires - and all the hard word that comes with it. The media mogul Troy Bolton moved to London over a year ago, following his former girlfriend, Gabriella. While these two caused major tabloids selling numbers in the last few years, no one has really taken a look at what these two are really made of. Gabriella Bolton has won a Grammy this year - making a real statement in the music industry. The CEO, producer and song writer of Unfaithful records didn't even pick up the award herself - she sent her employee Kelsi Nielson and step-brother Ryan Evans. Simply because she was busy continuing working - or rather growing her empire. Bolton's wife not only owns a record label, she has also a charity foundation called Aching Hearts. Last year in summer she gave a charity concert, raising more than 10 million pounds! She used her amazing contacts to get together the creme de la creme of the music industry. From Justin Timberlake, One Republic, Selena Gomez, Ed Sheeran, Justin Bieber to Coldplay... she had them all sang on an album which physically was sold out after the first two days it was released. Luckily, the only version on iTunes couldn't sell out. But it stayed on number one for over seven weeks. The raised money went to people who suffer from heart problems, either needing a surgery or treatment very badly. Once again, Gabriella showed what a celebrity status is really meant for: to do good._

I flip the page over and feel my mouth falling to the floor as I see Miley's photo of us in the magazine. Troy's carrying me downstairs and I place my head against his torso. I feel so embarrassed out of the sudden! _Being together for over three years, those two look like they just met!_

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. Sex sells. Love stories sell... They need a certain amount to get sold in order to earn money... They just want to make as much money as they can.

 _"My husband is my biggest inspiration." Gabriella Bolton says, looking at her husband. There's a strong bond between those two and you know instantly that these two belong together. "Not because of his empire. It's the way he treats every single of his employees - from the interns to his legal advisors... He treats them with the respect they deserve and not a lot of CEOs can say that about themselves."_

I close the magazine. I can't read this on a bench in Richmond park. I need a cup of coffee or a glass of wine for this. I need to read this at home with the care it needs. I put the magazine in my bag before fishing out my phone again. I dial the number of my husband as I start rushing home.

"Forbes magazine is out." I say as he picks up.

"I know."

"You should have informed me about it." I say, my eyes focussing on the path ahead of us. "Did you read it?"

"Which version?"

I frown, "There's more than one?" I ask him confused.

"They have three different covers and one online version." his voice informs me and I know he's grinning right now.

"You may seem to be very proud, but I surely am not."

"Why not?"

"They turned this into a love-interview. I wanted this to be professional, not personal."

I can hear him leaning back in his chair, "They used this as an opening. Read it fully."

"I will when I am at home."

"Good." Suddenly I hear his assistant talking to him, "Listen, I have to go. We can discuss it tonight when I come home."

"Care to give me a time?"

"I should be getting out at around midnight..." he trails off, but I know it won't be midnight. It'll be much later.

I sigh, "You know what? I'll read this through and we'll discuss it tomorrow morning. Just don't wake me when you get home. I'm already exhausted and I don't think I'll stay awake this long."

"Fine." he says before hanging up.

I look at the display of my phone, wondering if I pissed him off or if he really just made a compromise.

* * *

I brush through my hair as my finger slides through the photos on the website of Forbes magazine. The television is showing some kind of talk show, but I don't really listen to the blabber after watching the news. Unlike the ones in the printed version, these are mostly monochrome. There are a few photos from a wider angel, but the majority are close-ups. Some show us looking deeply into each other's eyes, others show either my husband or me alone. I can't believe the trick with the music worked. The guidelines from the photographer and my husband have worked magically. I actually don't look half-bad on these photos. Miley's magic makeup is beautiful as well as my hairdo. I stop and zoom in as I see the photo of me starring into the mirror, looking at my husband. It's one of the few that is not black and white. The colour is saturated, the contrast is a bit higher than usual. The photo is vibrant and full of emotions. I am blurry, while my husband is sharp in his black Armani suit. The white oxford shirt is open at the collarbone, the silver Hermes tie is in his right hand. It's a beautiful picture as it shows exactly what I do everyday anyway: admire my husband.

"Let's talk about these two." I hear the host saying. My head swings up and my eyes widen as I see a photo of my husband and me on the huge LED screen behind the host and the 'celebrity' expert. I gulp, of course people would talk about the photo shooting... but I thought they would wait a little longer.

"Mr. and Mrs. Bolton had their first official photo shoot." the host says, "and these photos turned out to be nothing but hot!"

The blonde expert smiles, "Did you expect anything less from them?"

"With a man like him... impossible."

"Exactly. But what is interesting is that they used a business magazine instead of any other tabloid."

"Why did they do that? I mean the last time we saw an interview was Gabriella's with Oprah, right?"

"Well, Troy Bolton has made a few interviews after the famous television interview of his wife, but he never spoke about his marriage or the baby. They like to keep things private."

"Yet they let the photographer Derek Smith in their house."

"Which considering Forbes is a business magazine mainly, was a huge step for both of them. The Boltons could have easily picked out a hotel room or choose to do the photo shooting at their house in Kensington... But there is not much to be seen of their home as most of the photos were either taken behind a white wall, in front of a window or at a study." She brushes through her hair, "No one knows exactly where the Boltons live, but Derek told me their house is quite a fortress! There are very high security standards from entering the gate with an individual code to getting into the actual house." I feel a shiver going down my spine. Little do they know that there's not only an individual code for the gates, but a finger print sensor as well. Maybe our home is really fortress... Of course we have high security standards. We had all reasons in the world.

"It must have been one hell of a photo shoot." There is a collage of photos of us on the LED screen. Most of them are from the online version. Seeing them this big makes them somehow even more beautiful. I tilt my head to the side, my eyes admiring what I see. We really do look like the perfect hot couple the press and everyone around us likes to see in us. This wasn't just a photoshoot of two beautiful people who happen to be married, this was a photoshoot of two successful people marking their territory in the business. We're here to stay.

"Actually, I talked to Derek and he told me that taking these photos was one of the easiest photo shoots he has ever done. Which considered that this was Gabriella's first one, says a lot about her and the chemistry between Troy and her. Troy was her guide at the photo shoot."

"And he did a wonderful job, didn't he?"

"Absolutely. There's simply nothing he can't do." I smile at her words, at least there is some truth in them for now.

"What about the baby boy? Did they take a photo with their son as well?"

I laugh out loud. Oh they have no idea the baby boy is a baby girl that has already started talking. I look next to me on the couch. Adaline is fast asleep. Our beautiful baby girl...

"No their baby was watched by no other than Miley, Gabriella's future sister in law herself."

"Too sad. I am still waiting for baby photos."

"We all are, aren't we?" The blonde woman smiles, "But just like their wedding, they like to keep that a secret as well. They probably want to keep him out of the public eye."

"I guess we just have to wait and see then."

* * *

yawn, stretching out my limbs. Troy was right, I am feeling quite sore after my workout with Krimov. Opening my eyes, I can see the dawn outside the window before I turn around. As my eyes see the empty beside, my ears hear the running shower. I asked him to wake me up, didn't I? Growling, I get out of the bed and walk into the bathroom. I open the door and get greeted by the warm steam. I stop in my movement as I see the naked behind of my husband. I gulp, feeling my mouth drying out and my pulse rising. I allow my eyes to get drunk in the image in front of me... These toned legs... his sexy butt and those beautiful muscles sculpting his back. I close the door and bite my lip as the sound makes him turn around. Damn it, he's even more beautiful from the front.

"I asked you to wake me up." I say to him as I brush through my hair. I feel my body reacting to what I see. He looks better than Michelangelo's David.

"You want to discuss the article now?" he asks me, his head full of shampoo.

I watch him stepping back and wish to be the water drops that run down his body as he washes the shampoo out of his hair. "Yes." I say, my voice hoarse.

"Stop biting your lip then." he says before picking up shower gel. He pours the gel onto a loofah before he foams it up with a bit of water. "Did you read both?"

"Yes." I walk closer to him.

"Which one don't you like?" he asks me as he washes his body, knowing me too well.

"The printed version." I say as my eyes follow his hands on his body. I watch his erection growing and my sex responding to his needs. I squeeze my thighs together before I look up at his eyes. His blue orbs have the same dark marble in them every time we share these kind of moments now. Six weeks in recovery and I am still not allowed to have any sex yet. Working out in light ways yes, but sex... Twelve days... Dr. Gardener said twelve days the last time I saw her. We can survive twelve more days.

"Twelve days." I say into his eyes and he closes them, inhaling sharply.

"Twelve days." he echoes before I watch the shower gel gliding down his muscles as the water runs down his body. "What didn't you like about it?" he asks me, changing the subject again.

"I don't want us to be seen as the horny couple we are."

A chuckle escapes the lungs of my husband, "Isn't that exactly what we are?"

I stop at the glass door, my hands on the knob. "Yes. Right now we are..." I say, my eyes wandering down his body again. How much I wish the twelve days were already over... "But that's not all we are."

"True." he says back, his orbs sparkling into mine.

I inhale deeply, feeling the demanding hunger for my husband oh so clearly. "Oh fuck it!" I mumble before tearing the door open. I rush over to him, kissing him passionately as our lips finally touch. He returns my kiss, picking me up. I wrap my legs around his hips, feeling the warm water wetting my clothes. My fingers brush through his hair as our tongues start dancing. Suddenly I feel the marble wall behind my back. The movement rings in my hips and I am well aware that we need to wait. My wet clothes are glued to my body, but all I feel is the heat from my husband's body. His erection pulses against my stomach, demanding what I want too as we kiss heavily. I let my fingers glide down his back, feeling his muscles vibrating from my touch. A growl escapes the lungs of my husband as bites into my lower lip, giving me air to breath. I am out of breath and I feel dizzy, yet I have never felt a stronger desire for him than just now. His eyes stare into mine, telling me the same.

"Your hip is still recovering." he answers to me as I place my hands on his butt.

I kiss him softly, having a shallow breath. Thank god, my rips have healed. "I want you." I say into his eyes, squeezing his butt. I feel his erection reacting to my touch and another growl escapes the lungs of my husband.

"You winced when I pressed you against the wall. You winced in pain." he says to me, freeing my neck from my wet hair.

"I know..." I confirm his words.

"I can't fuck you when you're in pain. I can't risk-" I shut him off with another kiss.

"I know." I say as I let go.

He sighs, "What you're doing to me is out of this world, Mrs. Bolton."

I smile, unsure if he means his heart or his sex. "You're doing the same." I say back with a shrug, knowing it is true.

* * *

 **A new chapter. Please review!**

 **Xoxo**


	14. Chapter 14

I pour white wine into two wine glasses. It's a chardonnay called Domaine Ramones Montrachet Grand Cru. I have no idea if it's any good, but I found the bottle in the wine fridge. It sounds good. The sky is bright pink as the sun settles, ending the day. It's was a wonderful first day in Swansea. I completely forgot how beautiful and calming this city is. What a sanctuary this house embodies. I sigh as I brush through my hair, my eyes getting drunk in the view in front of me. We should have come earlier to this place...

"She's asleep." I hear Troy's voice ringing through the hallway.

I turn away from the glass facade in the living room and smile as I watch my husband walking towards me. He's dressed in a simple white oxford shirt and dark blue trousers. Although he promised this weekend would be for us, he did had to do a video conference. It were the hardest two hours away from him so far. God, he looks so beautiful in the pink light of the settling sun. Even after just one day in the sun, he looks already tanned. Suddenly, he stops in his movement before his fingers brush through his hair and I know he thinks the same.

I pick up the wine glasses and walk over to him. "Drink." I order as I hand him his glass. "It'll ease your desire."

He tilts his head, his dark marbled orbs staring into mine, "Nothing can ease that except you."

"Drink." I say again before taking a sip of the wine. The wine has a taste of fine chardonnay grapes and some rich lemon notes as well as a citrus palate. I think I picked out the right one.

He takes a sip as well, "You picked out the Montrachet Grand Cru from 1999."

I frown as he voices exactly what the label of the white wine bottle says. "Yes." How the hell can he know what wine it is only by tasting it?

"You have an exclusive taste, Mrs. Bolton."

"Was it a bad choice?"

"A wine worth over 1,257$ is never a bad choice."

My mouth drops open, "What?!"

A chuckle escapes the lungs of my husband, "We've spent over two years together and you still have no idea about wine?"

"I just picked out a bottle from the wine fridge." I answer back with a shrug.

He smiles before his fingers fondle my cheek, "We should do a wine tasting when we're in France for Miley's and Lucas' wedding. We could start at our vineyards and work our way through whole France - or the other way around. Chene Bleu has a great variety of white wines, too."

Chene Bleu is the place where Miley's and Lucas' wedding will happen in September later this year. It will be absolutely stunning. "You want me to get drunk?"

"No, I want you to get a sense of what exactly is in our wine fridge." his thumb runs over my lower lip, "That way you won't fall of the chair when I tell you our wine fridge at home is worth several millions of dollars."

My eyes widen, "Why the hell do we have such expensive wine?!"

His hand grabs my wine glass before he puts them both on the mantelpiece. "You have a private studio - I have a wine collection."

I roll my eyes. My husband's hobby is far more expensive than mine could ever be. "A wine tasting in the Provence it is, then."

He smiles, "Good. I'll arrange everything."

I brush through his hair, "You already have a plan, don't you?" I ask him back, knowing my husband.

"We'll start after the wedding. While Miley and Lucas will jet off to..." his lips form a thin line as he nearly drops the hint. So far, only Lucas and his brother know where the honeymoon is going to be. And to be fair, mentioning it towards me would end in the same disaster as Lucas telling about his ring - I'd tell Miley. "Château Sainte Roseline. Thirty minutes away from Saint-Tropez. That will be our first stop."

"We'll start South East?"

"Yes."

"Château des Demoiselles is next. It's in the heart of Provence." his eyes are sparkling with anticipation.

I smile, "After that?"

"Domaine de Chevalier, which is in Bordeaux. Then Château Pape Clément before we stop at our vineyards."

"Hmm... and why don't we just stay at Bolton's vineyards for the whole trip?"

"Because France is beautiful in the summer. Because we'll drive by lavender fields so breathtaking that they remind me of the luck I have. Because I want Adaline to see as much of the world as possible."

I wrap my arms around his neck, "And how long do we have to be on road?"

"16 days."

"Over two weeks..." I breathe out, my brain already rescheduling my appointments. I'll miss three meetings with my staff and one with Kelsi. I'll have to reschedule several appointments in my private studio at home as well... "I could do that."

"Good, because you will."

* * *

I lean against the back of the couch before my fingers start unbuttoning the white blouse that I am wearing. Adaline's hungry request fills my ears. "I know... I know you're hungry. Hang on." I say to her as my eyes see my husband walking in.

"Hey, what's your plan?" He asks me as he sits down next to me. "We still have enough bottles of your milk."

"I know, but I want to try..." I say, opening my bra to free my right breast. The floor length windows offer a breathtaking view of Swansea's beaches. The waves crash against each other, the sea gulls are flying high and the sun is shining bright.

"And your rips?"

I sigh, "I'm good."

"When was the last time you took the painkillers?"

"Three days ago. The alcohol from the wine we drank two days ago is already out of my system as well. I am ready. We both are."

Troy hesitates before he picks her up and hands her over to me. I smile before I lay her down in front of my free breast. Almost immediately she starts sucking and for the first time I feel no pain at all. There's a sucking sensation, but no burning or pulsing pain like before.

"Is she eating?" He asks me.

I nod before she places her hand on my left cheek. Suddenly, my eyes start watering up as I brush through her hair. "It's working... she's eating." I gulp as tears start running down my face.

"Are you in pain?"

I shake my head, "No... there is no pain at all."

His bright blue eyes are full of love and pride... and I know I reflect his emotions in my eyes.

"This is how it should have been from the beginning." I mumble as my eyes rest on my daughter whom I am nourishing. Ever since the photoshoot for Forbes magazine three weeks ago she hasn't said the word blue again. For now, her lexis consists of mommy, daddy and hi. Colors have not slipped out of Adaline's mouth again and I'm not sure if it's something I should be worry about or be glad about. I want her to use her full capability but at the same time it scared the shit out of me when Troy told me what happened when she said her first word. She showed a kind of development that she shouldn't have been anywhere close to. I'm not sure we're able of raising a genius - that is, if my daughter is really one. She's so small... yet so bright already. She has started to react to the atmosphere around her. She knows when we're happy, sad or angry. She's sensitive to any mood changes in her surroundings. Like the one time Miley was mad at Lucas for not caring about the menu for their wedding. The whole atmosphere was tensed and Adaline wouldn't stop screaming. It was almost like she screamed for Miley, who wasn't able to. It was not a pleasant weekly dinner, the least to say. Adaline's favorite sound is her singing parents. Every time one of us sings, she's all smiles before she starts singing along - in her own language for now. It's amazing to watch her grow and develop.

She stops eating, her bright blue eyes looking deeply into mine. "Mom-my." she says, smiling from ear to ear. It's my favorite sound... hearing her talk, communicating with us in a way we are able to understand her...

"Yes, I am your mommy." I smile back at her before kissing her cheek.

* * *

The salty ocean air clashes against my face. With closed eyes, I let the sun warm my body. It's a beautiful August day in Swansea. The seagulls are singing in the sky. We're at a private beach and I love the fact that we're alone here. No arguing, no crying children, no people talking... it's simply breathtaking. It's the last day of our weekend and we're making one final stop at the beach before we head back home. I feel my husband's arms around my body and I lean against his strong torso. My body reacts to his palms on my stomach almost immediately.

"Hi..." I whisper to him as I tilt my head to the side. His bright blue orbs are hidden behind aviator sunglasses.

"Hey." he whispers back before leaning in to kiss me. I allow myself to get lost in his kiss, turning around. I wrap my arms around the neck of my husband as I deepen his kiss. It was a good idea to drive up to Swansea. The sun, the water and the atmosphere was just what we needed. As I let go, I feel warm and cozy from the inside and outside.

"She's finally asleep." Troy's lips form a smile and I look over his shoulder. Adaline's sleeping in the sun lounger with a canopy. The warm weather which London didn't have is something our daughter has been loving. The salty fresh air is making her very sleepy quite quickly, leaving her parents more time for themselves.

I let my hands glide down his back, which is not only toned but also tanned from the sun. Three days in the sun and my husband looks like he has been on vacation for two weeks. "Good." I shift my weight on the tip of my toes before I kiss him passionately. My hips feel a tiny bit uncomfortable and I know we won't go any further than kissing next weekend, too. My pain has been annoying both of us in the last weeks. Waiting has quickly become a tough task for us.

He lets go of my lips, sighing. "You are still in pain..." his voice is hoarse.

I sigh, "I know..."

"I can't... I don't want to cause you any pain." his fingers fondle my cheek.

"You would never..."

He tilts his head to the side, "I don't have myself under control when I see your half naked body, hear your beautiful voice and smell you..."

"You didn't lose control yet."

He sighs and closes his eyes. For a moment I think he'll start arguing with me. As he opens his eyes again, I can see a dark marble in the blue of his orbs. It's beautiful, dangerous and full of lust. "I've been trying very hard..."

I bite my lip, "I know. Me, too."

His thumb releases my lip from my teeth. As he opens his mouth, I hear his cellphone ringing. He turns around and I watch my husband picking up his phone. Work has been something he let go of for the last three days - well, he almost let go of it. Living a somewhat normal life suits him. I think for the first time in seven weeks he is relaxing. Not fully yet but it's a start.

"What?" his voice is full of shock and I watch his body tensing. Something's wrong.

I frown as I walk over to him.

"No, we'll pack our things and drive back. We should be there in about four, four and a half hours..." his brain starts calculating the London traffic in. He hangs up and starts collecting our things.

"What's wrong?" I ask him frowning. His fingers puts the items faster in our bag than I ever could.

"Franklin had an heart attack." he breathes out.

"Oh my god..."

"He's at St. Mary's. In surgery. Shailene called me. She's already in the hospital. Lucas and Miley are on their way."

I grab the car keys before his hand reaches them, "I'll drive. You're in a bad case."

He picks up the bag before I pick up our sleeping daughter. She complains about me waking her up, making some noise. But she quickly calms down as I start walking to our car, following my husband. I unlock the car and watch my husband putting our beach stuff in the trunk. Thank god, we already have our suitcase in the trunk as we were planning to head back to London today anyway. I put Adaline in her carseat and I secure it before I get seated behind the wheel. I start the engine and start driving through Swansea. The beach fades in the review mirror and so do the three happy days we spent here. I sigh, it feels like reality can even reach us here in paradise. Minutes pass by and I am glad that I'm focused on driving. I can't allow my mind to get mixed up with his emotions. Franklin might have not been the best father in the last months... but he's his father after all.

"How are you?" I ask him as I drive up the motorway.

"I'm okay." he places his hand on mine that's resting on the gear switch. He laces his fingers with mine and I dare to look at him for moment. He looks worried although he smiles. "At least we had three calm days to ourselves."

I chuckle, "A mini vacation."

His phone rings again and I watch him picking up. "Luc," he breathes out. "No, we're already on our way. The traffic is not bad so far... I'm thinking maybe four hours... Yes... We'll see you there." he hangs up and I watch his body tensing again.

"He'll be fine." I ensure him with a soft smile on my lips.

His blue eyes look at me as I focus on the street. "I'm not sure I want him to be."

* * *

I follow my husband as he rushes through the hallways of St. Mary's. Although he's walking with a speed of a maniac, the hand he is carrying Adaline in her baby seat with is still. Last time we were here I gave birth to Adaline. This time it's for a much more serious topic. Shailene called us on our way again, telling us that Franklin's already out of surgery, but he has yet to wake up. Suddenly Troy stops so abruptly in front of a closed door that I nearly bump into him with Adaline.

"Room 3459." he breathes out, his hand on the doorknob.

I frown as I watch him hesitating. He doesn't want to open the door. Perhaps he's just unsure of what to expect... or rather who. "Open the door." I hiss at him before taking Adaline from him. After all, I didn't sprint through whole St. Mary's just to turn around now. It's his father... For a moment I wonder what I'd do in his situation. I wouldn't hesitate to open the door for my father, but Victoria... I never would have made it that far for her.

His hand opens the door and we walk in.

"Troy," I hear Shailene saying before her lean arms wrap around her brother's body.

I hold tight around the handle of Adaline's baby seat as I follow. Silently, I close the door and I'm thankful for our daughter's deep sleep. My eyes see Franklin's unconscious body laying in a hospital bed before Lucas walks up to me. I hug him with my free hand, giving him more comfort than I was able to give my husband. The whole four hour drive back to London he was silent, his mind going crazy. He's worried and probably thinking of the last time he spoke to his father.

"How are you?" I ask my almost brother-in-law and smile as I watch Miley coming over to us.

He shrugs, "Worried."

I nod, "He's a fighter. He'll get through it."

"He's a Bolton after all." Miley says with a small smile on her lips. "Nothing can knock off a Bolton that easily." her bright blue eyes look worried though, but they lighten up as they see Adaline sleeping in the baby seat for a moment. I hand her the baby seat and she puts it on the empty chair across Franklin. There's a heart monitor beeping and he's connected to a saline solution.

"How was the surgery?" I ask Lucas, whose green eyes focus my husband. I'm surprised I haven't seen any tears yet, but then again I know that Boltons rarely cry. They don't like to show emotions.

"He got a cardiac pacemaker so it doesn't happen again." Shailene explains to me before pulling me into a hug. "Thanks for coming."

I nod, "How long has he been out of surgery?"

"An hour and a half." Miley answers.

"He should wake up any time now." Lucas whispers and for a moment I think he's going to burst out in tears. But he doesn't. None of them do. Suddenly we hear a movement and all eyes turn to Franklin. His cold blue eyes are open as they see us all gathered around him. He seems a bit surprised, but hides it quickly.

"Daddy..." Shailene has her arms wrapped around her father already. She seems to be the only one in this room who is able to show any emotions. Maybe that's why she's a psychiatrist.

His blue eyes widen as they see first Lucas, Troy, Miley and then me. He didn't expect us here. Well, definitely not Troy and me. After all, things ended quite badly with the three of us. I gulp, hoping that he won't mention it towards Shailene, who is the only one in the dark.

"What are you doing here?" his blue eyes focus my husband before they move towards me. "With her."

I close my eyes, realizing that I'm holding my breath. I don't know why I expected a more positive reaction from Franklin.

"She's my wife. Family. Just like Lucas, Shailene... and Miley will be soon." Troy's voice is icy cold and I feel a shiver going down my spine. I know he doesn't want to argue with his father, but at the same time he is at the edge of exploding.

"I don't count her as family." his voice is no warmer than my husband's. "She's a fraud."

I open my mouth to respond, but to my surprise my daughter takes that place. She starts screaming and I know it's neither hunger nor attention - she's mad. Mad about something she can't understand, yet she seems to sense the cold angry atmosphere. Franklin's eyes suddenly focus his granddaughter, seeing her for the first time.

"We'll go." I say, picking her up. After all Franklin's recovering from surgery. He needs peace and silence. "I hope you get well soon, Franklin." I say into his eyes.

"I don't need your-"

"Enough!" Troy's voice is loud, cold and full of anger. "We'll go together. You might not accept her, but you know that I care less. We all care less. My wife is neither a fraud nor a thief as you used to call her. She's the love of my life - something you've never found. I wish you all the best father, but I don't know why I decided to pay you a visit." he looks at Shailene, "Next time he's in the hospital don't bother to call. I'm done." Troy holds the door open for me and I walk out. I don't know why I thought this would go better as well. But even after a surgery and with a heart pacemaker, he still seems to be one of the heartless persons I know. Only Victoria can top that.

"You sure you want to burn all the bridges to your father?" I ask Troy as soon as the door shuts.

He takes Adaline out of my hand, "Yes. My father is to me what Victoria is to you."

I sigh, "Okay..." I understand his message.

* * *

I brush through my hair, my eyes resting on my sleeping daughter. It's been a hectic day for all of us. I close the door of her room and walk down the hallway. Soft jazz music starts filling my ears as I walk downstairs. With my naked feet, I walk through the kitchen, dining room and I stop as I see my husband standing in front of the glass facade. I see his silhouette in the pink sky and feel my lungs losing air. He looks so beautiful. Yet I feel unease as I see the bourbon glass in his hands. He is still worried.

I take a deep breath before I walk over to my husband. "Hey..." I greet him and take the empty glass from his hand.

"I don't want our daughter to have no grandparents." His eyes focus the view of River Thames.

"I know..."

"But I can't be near my father again if he doesn't accept you." His eyes look at mine and I gulp as I feel his sorrow, which is not because of the bridges he burned, but because of our daughter. "I can't forgive him what he has done."

I brush through his hair before I place the glass on the coffee table, "Sometimes I think it's unfair that you do what you do for me. Because of me. I never wanted you to kick Diana out or burn bridges with your Dad. I... I feel like I destroyed your family."

He tilts his head to the side and for a moment I'm not sure if he believes me. "You didn't destroy my family. You are my family Gabriella."

I gulp, "You don't believe me."

"You don't understand that my family has been destroyed long before we met. I had a complicated family life. The only person I spoke to regularly was Lucas." His fingers start fondling my cheek, "I had barely any contact to Diana or Shailene. Even with my dad it was always... difficult. With my kind of job it had to always be difficult. I couldn't be close to them because I'd get them into danger. And for the time it was exactly what I wanted."

I sigh, "But they love you. They all do... even Franklin."

He shakes his head, "He doesn't... he pushes me away. He is so blinded by his fears..."

"He will be fine."

His bright blue orbs darken, "He blackmailed you. You and Lucas, his own flesh and blood! What kind of man does that?!"

"He wanted to protect you..."

"Tell me why are you protecting him out of the sudden?"

I gulp, "He's your dad... and you have so much from him. You seem both cold hearted but I have never met anyone as loving and giving as you. You protect what's closest to you... you'd do anything for me. For your family. Just like Franklin."

"You don't want me to turn Franklin into Victoria."

I shrug, "I don't blame your pain. I would have reacted the same way as you if it were Victoria."

"No you would have never gone so far to stand in front of her hospital door. Because you would have known better."

I bite my lip, "I just... it's been this way since I was six."

His arms embrace me, "Your past still scares me sometimes."

I inhale his scent, "I live in the present and I look forward to our future, but my past... I try to not think of it too much."

"You are remarkable."

I kiss his right cheek, "You're not so bad either."

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. Please review!**

 **Xoxo**


	15. Chapter 15

I stop in front of the floor length mirror in the bathroom, my eyes resting on my profile. I'm wearing the same navy colored silk nightgown I wore after I told him we're expecting. It feels like an eternity ago… It was a whole different stage of my life - of our lives. Troy's and mine.

I didn't think I'd be able to wear my normal clothes so soon. But then I never would have thought I'd get kidnapped and starve for three days. I was bone thin afterwards. It was scary and I looked scary. But slowly I gained weight until now where I'm at the weight I had before the pregnancy. Thanks to my workouts with Krimov I've even built some muscle strength. Every time we work out, I am all sweaty and fighting for air. It makes me feel alive. It's the same feeling I have every single time I go for a run. Other than that I did some yoga and pilates with Adaline. Exercise and bonding time at the same time. She seems to enjoy it as much as me. The cuts on my body and the hematoma have all healed, leaving no scars. It's a miracle that there's no sign on my skin of what happened to me. On the outside I have healed. On the inside I am still healing. It's a process. I have nightmares of the shooting, the time I was in Brazil... they are horrific and scare me to death every time. But then I wake up and realize I am safe. Home. I'm still waiting for the day they stop. But for now it's just something I have to deal with. The meditation I've been doing for months now is starting to help. It clears my mind just like Troy and Dr. Wyatt said. There's hope. I'll recover. It's what I promised her. My daughter.

I run my fingers through my hair before my naked feet leave the warm marble floor of the master bathroom. A yawn escapes my mouth as I walk into our bedroom, feeling soft carpet beneath me. My sleepy eyes widen as I see my husband rushing into the bedroom. He's wearing his usual working attire: a dark suit with a white oxford shirt and a silk navy colored tie. It's simple, breathtaking, intimidating, dominating and sexy as hell all at once.

"You're here early." I breathe out as a greeting. It's only nine in the evening. He usually comes home around midnight - or later. It's so unusual for him to be here so early. Yet, I don't mind seeing my husband for longer than the fifteen minutes in the morning he has for me. "How was your day at work?" I ask him.

"I don't want to talk about my day right now." he almost growls at me as he takes off his jacket, his shoes as well as socks.

I can't tell in what mood my husband currently is. "Well, dinner should still be warm in case you're hungry." I mumble as he throws his socks into the laundry basket.

"I'm not hungry for food." he mumbles under his breath.

"Okay…" I breathe out as I watch my husband rushing over to me. Within a second I feel his lips crashing against mine, his hunger for me taking over. I return his kiss, getting lost in this passion. It's been a while since I felt these emotions, felt those kind of kisses. We've been through so much in the last couple of months. As I feel my hands pulling out the oxford shirt from his pants I realize that I want it too. I want to feel his skin on mine… feel his lips… his hands… everything. I want him.

I feel his lips leaving mine, before a big sigh escapes his mouth. At first, I don't understand why. But then the same noise starts filling my ears - Adaline's voice. She's crying. My eyes move over to the baby phone that's standing on the nightstand.

"I'll go…" he whispers before his hands leave my shoulder blades.

I bite my lip as I watch my husband walking out of the bedroom. One hot kiss from him and I'm like melted chocolate. I brush through my hair, feeling hot - I didn't think I'd be able to feel these kind of emotions again. I thought after all that happened - every single disaster that nearly destroyed us - we'd never be the same. But he shows me that deep inside, we'll always be these two horny, madly in love with each other kind of people.

With my naked feet, I walk down the hallway and stop at the doorframe of Adaline's bedroom. A warm rush of emotions runs through my veins as I see my husband returning his daughter's smile. She's laying in her white wooden basket. There's a mobile hanging above her head with little butterflies and birds made out of cloth. It was a gift from my father. Handmade by him. It's stunning, he has always been good at handcrafting.

"You've heard my voice and wanted to see me, didn't you?" he asks her, kissing her tiny little hands. He looks so proud, so in love with her… so beautiful.

She responses with a giggle, clearly being able to recognize her father. "Dad-dy" she breathes out, making my heart skip a beat like it always does when she calls him daddy or me mommy. It's the most satisfying feeling ever. Being nine weeks old, her hands already grab the silk tie around his neck. She pulls it and smiles as Troy makes a funny face. Her bright blue eyes focus everything she touches, her mouth being open as if she's exploring something totally new to her. She has my high cheeks bones and hair color, Troy's eye color, my nose and his ears. The long fingers are from her father as well. She's the most perfect mixture of us. A yawn escapes her lips and she lets go of the tie. Her tiny fingers touch Troy's face, striking from his chin up to his nose, over his brows and down at his nose again.

I lean against the doorframe, carefully watching the loves of my life. Adaline's hands leave Troy's face, her lips yawning again. She's sleepy, but at the same time she's doesn't want to leave her eyes off of Troy. I know exactly what she feels - it used to be the same with me: I never wanted to close my eyes, afraid that when I wake up he'd be gone.

He brushes through her dark brown hair and she stretches, closing her eyes. He's her father - and he's going nowhere. I watch him bend down to kiss her cheek, "Sweet dreams, my little sunshine." A smile appears on his lips, "I love you." His bright blue eyes leave her's before locking with mine. It's just a breathtaking picture to see them together. To know she's what we created… she's the middle of our universes. She's my everything. He's my everything. They… they are my everything.

I return his smile, being totally in awe of him. He's already the best father he can be. Struggling between work and his family - he got the hang out of it pretty quickly. He tends to work late during the week but the weekends… the weekends are for Adaline and me. His family.

"How long have you been standing there?" he asks me in a whisper as he slowly walks over to me.

"Long enough to fall in love with you all over again." I breathe out as I turn around, my back being against the wall in the hallway.

"Really?" he asks with a seductive smile on his lips, resting his hands on my hips. I can feel the warmth of his hands through the nightgown.

I nod and let my fingers brush through his silky hair. "Yes." I promise into his eyes, "Every day, hour and second I am falling more and more in love with you. I don't know how… but I do."

A smile appears on his lips - and I know exactly why. It's not only because he feels the same. It's because I'm voicing my emotions - I am telling him how I feel. It's something I've learned over sessions and sessions with Dr. Wyatt… Seems like the couple therapy has finally paid off. We communicate as we should be.

He brushes a strand of hair behind my right ear, his hand resting on my cheek. His bright blue orbs lock with mine for an eternity before his lips finally meet mine. The soft, warm kiss quickly turns into more. He smells of warm summer nights and tastes of blueberries. Maybe that's why I was craving so many blueberry muffins during my pregnancy - they simply reminded me of him. Our tongues start their beloved dance as my fingers start undoing the tie around his neck. That dark navy silk knot is something I tie in a second before he leaves the house - and I can undo it in a blink of an eye. I pull the collar of his white oxford shirt closer until all I feel is the warmth of his body and the hard wall behind me. His erection starts growing as his hands hold my head and our mouths continue kissing as heavily as ever. Getting lost in the moment, I completely let go of any problem that's been on my mind. All I think of, all I feel, is him and my desire for him. I let the silk tie drop to the floor as his lips leave mine.

"Are you in pain?" his voice is clear, his eyes true.

I shake my head, unable to let my mouth form words. I am amazed by his self-control once more. My safety goes beyond any need of my husband.

His fingertips brush up my arms, raising them, "No pain in your arms?"

I shake my head again, feeling goosebumps on my skin.

He buries his head in the nape of my neck, "What about your neck?" his breath is warm and soft.

I can feel my breath quickening as I shake my head once more.

His lips brush down my neck, kissing my wishbone, "Your wishbone?"

A moan escapes my mouth as his hands massage my breasts. Oh God...

His fingers travel down my breasts, slowly giving me shivers as they stop at my navel. There are no cuts left. No scars. No signs of what happened. I bite my lip as his fingers travel further south until they wrap around my hips, "What about your hips?" His grip is strong and I feel my sex echoing to his touch.

"No..." my voice is hoarse, my body filled with anticipation.

"Good." He says before pulling my hips suddenly closer to his, so I feel his pulsing erection. He's just as full of anticipation as me. "Because I need you flexible for what I've got on my mind."

"Really?" I ask him back, tilting my head to the side. "What's exactly on your mind?"

"I've got a lot of plans for you, Mrs. Bolton." His bright blue orbs have a dark marble in them. It's the same color that's always been there in the last few weeks. It was the moment we knew one of us had to stop, otherwise we'd cross the line. Every single drop of desire, every single kiss, every touch had to stop... We had to hold back. But now... now, we're finally able to cross that fucking line.

Before I can react in any way, I feel my feet losing the steady ground. Wrapped in his strong arms, a giggle escapes my lungs as he carries me down the hallway. "What are you doing?" I ask him, confused, aroused, surprised and amazed all at once.

"I'm not making love to you next to our sleeping daughter." he mumbles as he carries me back into our bedroom.

"Oh and I thought this would be just a quickie." I joke as he places me back on the floor in front of the bed.

"A quickie wasn't invented for us." he says back, his orbs now glittering in that dark blue color. "You and me… once we start there's no stop." he promises me into my eyes.

I feel the air escaping my lungs. Yes, a quickie is definitely not something for us. My hands start unbuttoning his white oxford shirt as I feel my temperature rising. Button for button, I unwind his glorious body before I strip the white fabric off of his shoulders. My eyes stop as I see the scars on his right arm and his lower upper body. It's a miracle he survived the shooting. With my fingertips I run over the scar on his arm. I can't believe we all survived this… As my lips kiss his scar, I can feel his eyes on me as clearly as ever. My eyes lock with his, "I love you." I promise him.

"I love you, too." he says back, his hands fondling my cheeks before his lips meet mine again. Our tongues start dancing, exploring each other's mouths. My hands open his trousers before they fall on the ground. He steps out of them, his lips not leaving mine. I feel my body heating as his warm hands move down my body. My nerves start reacting to every single of his touches as his hands move beneath the knee length silk night gown. Slowly, his hands gather the fabric, helping me out of the Stella McCartney night gown Wearing laced panties, I watch his eyes move down and up my body. It's only now I notice that he's still wearing his briefs.

"God, you're so beautiful…" he breathes out in a whisper as his orbs lock with mine.

A small smile appears on my lips, "Likewise, Mr. Bolton."

His lips meet mine and I feel my body falling on the soft bed. A moan escapes my lungs as his lips leave mine, moving further south. My body responses with echoes down there every time his lips touch my skin. The heat inside of me starts rising, until there's only a burning fire of desire driving me. My body arches as his lips come closer to my pulsing sex. His hands start performing magic to my aroused nipples by twisting them, creating a fire inside of me. Another moan escapes my lunges as his teeth remove the fabric from my pulsing, wet sex. To my surprise, his lips nor his fingers touch me there. Instead, I feel his warm hands stroking the shape of my body, starting at my lower legs up to my stretched out arms. With slow movements, he caresses my body, which arches up as I feel my neves going crazy. Is he going to make me come without anything at all?

Moans escape my mouth as his fingertip starts circling around my breasts, down my navel and up to my breasts again. Just as I think he's finished, he starts again. It's such a sweet, sweet torture, yet I want more. I need more than just his fingertips touching me. I force myself to open my eyes to signalize him that I am already about to have my orgasm. I am wet, my nerves are going crazy, my pulse is high… all I need is him.

"How much have I missed touching your body…" he breathes out, his eyes rested on his moving fingertip, which feels like a feather brushing me.

He's not torturing me at all, I realize as my eyes watch him. He missed me as much as I missed him. I can see his erection and I notice that somewhere between kissing me and drawing the circles on my skin, he must've taken his briefs off. He missed my body as much as I missed his. He lifts his finger from my body and I feel my nerves going crazy, aching for his touch. I close my eyes as I feel his lips on my stomach, my body arching up again. My breath is shallow, my pulse is rising as his lips find my stiff nipples.

"Troy, please…" I breathe out as I feel my orgasm building and I know that it's only a matter of seconds until I burst under his lips. Carefully, he caresses first the right and then the left nipple with his teeth, sending me off to paradise so easily. Fireworks explode inside of me as the orgasm reaches it's highest point, sending signals to every single nerve in my body. A cry escapes my mouth, followed by the sound of blood rushing through my ears. As my body is still dealing with the aftershocks of this orgasm, I feel his lips kissing my neck. It feels so heavenly. I open my eyes as I feel his lips kissing mine softly. A smile appears on my lips as I kiss him back, "You made me come with just your lips." I breathe out, amazed by his skills.

"Oh yes I did… and I can do that again, if you want to." he teases me, having the same smile on his lips.

I brush through his hair, forcing my head to shake. "You deserve a reward for this, I think."

There's confusion in his eyes for a second before I roll us over, so I am on top of him. My body is soaking wet and my long dark brown curls are glued to my body, covering my voluminous naked breasts. The confusion in his eyes turns into arousal as I position myself. With the palms of my hands resting on his chest, I slowly let his precious body part fill me up. Centimeter for centimeter I can feel his precious part stretching mine. I completely forgot how good he felt inside of me. A growl escapes his lungs as I completely embrace him. He's so big, so… beautiful. A moan escapes my lungs as I adjust to his size and the feeling he's giving me. Skin on skin… Physically, it's the best feeling in the world. The best feeling in the world…

"This feels so good..." his voice is a whisper in my ears that create goosebumps on my skin.

"Yes, it does." I agree with him before kissing him. His erection reacts by pulsing and I know he wants me just as much as I want him.

With slow, controlled movements I start riding him. Up… and down…. and up… and down. His hands brush up my arms, over my breasts, down my stomach and they stop on my hips to support me. My breasts are bouncing with my speed as his eyes are glued on me. His dark blue eyes have a fire in them that I haven't seen for a while now. I missed seeing this fire, I missed _feeling_ this fire inside of me… I missed him so badly and this connection we have right now. He licks his lips as he eyeballs me slowly, carefully as if he forgot how I looked naked. We haven't felt each others skin in a while… I increase my speed and feel his grip on my hips strengthening.

"Fuck, Ella…" he whispers and I feel his penis harden even more. He's close and he hasn't called me that in a long, long time…

With a smile on my lips, I decrease my speed, causing his eyes to pop open. "I missed feeling you inside of me as well." I say with a shrug before I bent down and kiss him quickly. I missed this feeling so, so much…

He raises an eyebrow at me, "You're teasing me?"

I lift myself, feeling his body responding to my movement. "Oh, Mr. Bolton, I wouldn't dare…" I say with a seductive smile on my lips.

He raises his torso with only his abs, his eyes locked with mine. While normal people struggle with doing a couple of crunches or sit ups, my husband can do that with such an ease. Amazed by the strength of his body, I don't return his kiss. "God, you amaze me…" I breathe out before his lips meet mine again.

"Likewise, Mrs. Bolton." he says, fondling my cheek. His orbs have a dark, dark blue color. It's amazing… absolutely stunning. I feel myself getting lost in them.

Within one movement, I am laying on my back again. He used my amazement for him against me. He starts moving in and out at his very own speed. Somehow and I don't know how, he's deeper, bigger and it feels so much better. My mouth forms a big O as I am once more surprised I can handle his size. His lips meet mine, kissing me passionately. It's slowly at first as if he's enjoying feeling every single inch of me beneath him. God, this feels so incredibly good… It doesn't take him long to build my orgasm again.

"Faster…" I breathe out and rise my hips to meet his, as this is not going quick enough for me. I feel the orgasm building deep, deep inside of me. I need him deeper, faster and harder… I need…

"Troy" I breathe out his name as my body arches up again before the orgasm inside of bursts, making me see the stars of our love. I can hear my blood rushing through my veins.

Suddenly, he comes in a loud growl, his body losing grip for a second as the orgasm rushes through his veins as well. I place a kiss on his right bicep, as he deals with the aftershocks of this orgasm. Yes, it's been a while… but it feels oh so good.

As he exits me, I don't feel empty or lonely. I feel satisfied after a long, long period of hunger. I roll over to my side, watching my husband closely. We're still trying to catch our breaths. His head is resting on his bend elbow, as he's laying on his side as well. His face is glowing like it always does after sex and I know, I am glowing, too.

"Thank god, this is still working." I think out loud. It was one of my biggest fears.

A laughter bursts out of my husband's lungs before he raises an eyebrow at me. "You were afraid we wouldn't be able to have sex anymore?" he asks me, his lips forming a grin. I know, it probably sounds ridiculous to him. We've been close to having sex in the last weeks over and over again, but my recovery has always stopped us - and among that my fear.

"I was afraid I wouldn't be able to feel _this_ again. Ever." I say into his eyes. "This… this magical feeling every time we not only connect physically but psychologically. That's just magical…"

He nods, his fingers brushing through my hair. "I know. I feel it, too. Only with you. It's only one of the many reasons why I am so addicted to you."

"I was afraid I'd push you too far and you'd walk out on me." I say in one breath suddenly. I didn't want to tell him that, but given this comfortable situation, there's nothing I can't say to him. Right?

A small v forms between his brows, showing me that I offended him. "I would never walk out on you - or Adaline for that matter. You are my family. I love you more than anyone else - more than myself."

"I know…" I whisper, biting on my lower lip. I shouldn't have said that, but then again I am communicating. Something Dr. Wyatt always tells me to do.

"Then what caused these thoughts?"

It's the same question that's been running through my mind for a while now. The doctors told me it's the hormones, which caused my depression. They said that sometimes it takes longer for the hormones to go back to normal - to find their place in a way. But I didn't think it would take this long. I didn't think it would be this hard… I didn't think it'd be such a battle to feel anything again. And when it finally hit me, it was like I was almost feeling too much. Too much pain, too much love, too much sorrow, too much guilt, too much anger... it was so, so much.

"Gabriella," I hear Troy's voice calling my name.

I blink and my eyes focus his again. Guess, I zoned out. "I thought that this… this depression would destroy us."

His lips part as a sigh escapes his lungs, "Nothing and no one will destroy us. Our relationship survived an almost plane crash, a car accident, a shooting…" he doesn't dare to say the words depression or kidnapping. "… there's nothing left to survive. We made it through all the sticks and stones which made their way onto our path. And yet we're here. Married with our beautiful sleeping baby a few meters away from us. Naked from the breathtaking sex we just had. We're here…"

I lace my fingers with his, "We're here." I agree with him before I kiss him softly.

"And just because we haven't had sex in - what, eight months, maybe? - that doesn't mean we've lost our magic. It's still there… It's still right there." he says, moving our laced hands over to my heart.

"You're counting?" I ask him surprised. Though, I shouldn't be. For men sex is more important than for women. To be honest, sex was a solid element in our relationship. That was before the shooting. Before he died in my arms. Before the tough recovery process of hours and hours talking to Dr. Wyatt. Before the terrible nightmares we both suffered from: I dreamt of losing him and he dreamt of losing me. And then… then Adaline was born and everything changed. Mostly in a very positive way, but some… some changes were bad. Like my depression. Being not able to feel like a mother was… Looking at my beautiful daughter and feeling absolutely nothing that was… There are not even words to describe the fear, the pain, I felt of never being able to be what she needs me to be. What everyone needed me to be. And then the kidnapping happened… And suddenly everything was so intense that all I felt was pain. But now… now everything seems to be finally getting back to normal - and it's the best feeling in the world.

"Of course not. But we haven't had sex since the shooting. Which was on New Years Eve. Then the recovery process began for us. After that…" he pauses, "You didn't let me touch you after Adaline was born…" he doesn't even try to hide the pain he feels about that.

"I…" I close my mouth as I can't form a proper excuse. The word depression wouldn't quite describe it. And then there was the horrible kidnapping. Something that will scar me for the rest of my life - if not physically, psychologically at least. Getting over the fear of taking a shower or hearing the rain was one of the biggest steps I've taken so far, but I also know that there's still a long way to heal completely.

"I know… I know. Why do you think I held back for so long? You needed time. Time to recover and grow into this new role - and until then I had to wait."

I can't believe the luck I am having. I place a kiss on the back of his hand, "I didn't think you'd be able to hold back. Not this long, considering the strength of your desire for me."

"I took lots of long cold showers during the day. But boy was it hard when you were asleep next to me." he brushes through his hair, "There were many nights I laid awake and just stared at you. For probably the whole night. Or at least until the sun was rising again. Sometimes I slept in one of the guest rooms because just your appearance made me so god damn horny."

I frown, "I never realized that it was so hard for you..." I mumble.

"I held back because I knew you'd make it through. Through your depression. Through the hard times of little to no sleep at night. Through the recovery process after the kidnapping. I knew it, because you are the strongest woman I know."

What the hell did I do to deserve this wonderful man? "I love you." I whisper. The only words which come to my mind whenever I look at him. The only words which matter.

"I love you too, my angel." he whispers back.

My eyes move over to his scars. Sometimes, I still ask myself how the hell we survived this. It was one of the darkest days in my life. The scariest day. I feel a shiver going down my spine and soon goosebumps start covering my skin.

"My scars remind you of what happened…" I hear his voice before my eyes focus his.

I answer with a shrug. It's true.

"I see them as a sign of what we survived. Of what our love survived. I see them as a milestone in our path. To me they… they don't embody fear or death as they do to you. To me they remark gratitude, because you saved me. You did the unthinkable - you saved us."

I open my mouth to respond, but close it again.

"Say it." he whispers to me. "Tell me what you think."

"A few moments before the shooting started I thought I had destroyed us." I breathe out without thinking twice.

"Destroyed us? Oh no… not even you can destroy us, my love. I'll be by your side as long as I shall live. No matter what you say or do - or not say and not do." he says, brushing through my hair. "These rings," he says, holding up our laced fingers. "they mean more than just happy, shiny times. They stand for the dark, cloudy days as well. I will fight for you, when you don't seem to have the strength. But most of all, they mean I will be by your side no matter what. It's a symbol for the bond I've felt from the very first moment we met. A bond no one is ever going to be able to destroy or relate to. A bond that's stronger than any mistake - stronger than any mislead way."

I feel my vision getting blurry, "Troy Bolton, you should stop saying such romantic things or else I'm going to be all tears in a second."

A smile appears on his lips and he unlaces his fingers from mine before he fondles my cheek. "You deserve this happiness. You deserve this love and this joy that comes from Adaline and me. You deserve to hear how much you mean to me every once in a while. It's my way to remind you."

As I feel a tear rolling down my cheek, I kiss him softly. Tasting the saltiness from my tear, he returns my kiss, filling it with the passion I am feeling. Within a moment we are all over each other again, thankful that Adaline is fast asleep and won't interrupt our second, third and maybe fourth round…

* * *

Adaline's hungry request wakes me up. My eyes move over to the sleeping figure next to me. His chest is lifting and sinking in regular intervals. His lips are slightly parted. His bright blue eyes are shut. His chestnut brown hair is messy. His muscular body is resting… He's the most beautiful man I've ever seen - and he's all mine. I reach over him and grab the baby phone on his nightstand before I shut it off. He needs the sleep more than me. Carefully, I rise from our bed and pick up his white oxford shirt to cover my naked body. With bare feet, I make my way to our daughter. On my way, I button up his shirt, leaving the first two buttons open. As I reach her room, I feel my breasts responding to her need with a dragging pain. It feels like they're going to explode if I don't release the breast milk in any way. With a smile on my face, I pick her up from the bed. She stops crying immediately as she sees me.

"You should sleep the night through..." I mumble. Nine weeks and there has not been a single night in which she slept through. She must have her energy from Troy. With her in my arms, I sit down on the wooden rocking chair before I satisfy her hunger. Eagerly, she's drinking the milk while her hands are tucking the white fabric of the oxford shirt. At least she's not pulling on my hair again. I carefully caress her head, yawning. I have no idea what time it is. My eyes wander over to the window. The sun is slowly rising, so it must be anywhere between four and five in the morning. The sun is coating the sky in pastel tones of red, blue and orange as it is rising over the Thames. It looks beautiful.

Once she's finished with one breast, I give her the other. There's a pulling feeling as my nipples are sore from my husband's mouth. It's so weird and beautiful at the same time that only hours ago it was my husband who caressed my breasts while now they fulfill the need of our daughter. She's quickly satisfied and I pick her up to make her burp. I walk over to the changing table to pick up a cloth, so she won't burp on Troy's shirt. Her hands pull on the shirt as she's raising her head. I pick her up, reflecting her smile. She's such a beautiful, lovely child. But it doesn't look like she's going back to bed any time soon. With her in my arms, I start walking around in the room.

"Mommy..." she whispers to me again and I smile at her.

"Your mommy is very tired and wants to go back to sleep... Because daddy... well, daddy had a lot of things to do with mommy." I say as I yawn. Although she might not want to sleep, I certainly do. I'm exhausted and sore - though, I don't think it's a bad feeling. My daughter wants all the entertainment she can get at around four in the morning, so I start summing a melody, trying to sing her to sleep.

 _What's your definition of it_

 _How's it make you feel?_

 _Tell me what you say that truly makes it real._

 _Kings and queens, philosophers have tried so hard to find_

 _Tell me what it means to you dear_

 _Never mind_

 _Love is kind when the world is cold_

 _Love stays strong when the fight gets old_

 _Love is a shoulder to lean on_

 _Love is you_

 _Love's like the water when the well runs dry_

 _Quench my thirst, keep me alive_

 _Just need one sip baby_

 _Love is you_

 _Love is you_

 _Love is you_

 _Love is you_

 _Love is you_

Within a few minutes, I've sung her back into dreamland. Carefully, I put her back into her bed. I smile as I watch my perfect sleeping daughter. She's the most beautiful human on earth. The best that ever happened to me. But hopefully, she's going to give us a couple more hours to sleep. I brush through my hair and stop in my movement as I see Troy standing in the door frame, watching me closely. I can't believe I didn't notice his presence, but I must've been fully focused on Adaline. "How long have you been standing here?" I ask him, my eyes unable to not dance up and down his body. He's wearing white and blue striped pajama pants and no shirt. His scars are slightly visible, but he looks oh so beautiful. So sexy… so mine.

There's a smile on his lips as my eyes connect with his, "You are the most remarkable, most beautiful woman I know."

"It's why you decided to marry me." I mock him as I walk over to him. I must look horrible with my tousled hair and tired eyes. But he makes me feel beautiful - as always. "And create a miniature me." I joke smiling.

"I haven't heard you sing for a while." His fingers brush through my hair, making me lose my breath. His bright blue eyes burn it's way into mine, his touch giving me a warm feeling. As his lips finally meet mine, I feel the unsatisfied desire for him taking over. As our tongues start battling, I find my back pressed against the wall of our hallway once more as my hands start undoing the bow on his pajama pants. With fast movements, his fingers unbutton the oxford shirt I am wearing, letting it glide down my shoulders but stopping at my bend elbows before I wrap my legs around his hips. His lips leave my swollen one, giving me the chance to catch some air. As my lungs start filling with air again, his lips start kissing my neck, my wishbone, awakening my nerves for his touch.

"Troy," I breath out his name in a hoarse voice. Suddenly, I am wide awake. Awake for my husband's and my needs for one another. I will never understand how he can change from normal to this lustful human in a blink of an eye - and taking me with him. It's almost like he's always this horny, masking it most of the time. But sometimes, like now, he's able to let go. With me… For me… for himself. His chestnut brown head lifts and his bright blue eyes connect with mine. My sweaty body is already glued on his, my upper body feeling his heartbeat oh so clearly. It's racing. Just like mine. My fingers run through his hair and down his cheek. He closes his eyes, enjoying my touch while I am still gasping for air. His skin is on fire just like mine. His lips part slightly as my fingers run over them. He has such perfect lips… such a wonderful mouth with words so dirty, only me gets to hear them.

"I want you in the fucking room." he breathes out, opening his eyes.

My dirty talking husband… my dirty talking man… my dirty talking everything… I bite my lip as my eyes rest on his mouth. He's asking me to spend hours and hours of caressing him… of him caressing me… of nothing but us in this room. He wants to know if I can do that.

I press my forehead against his, my body glued to his. "You have to go to work in about an hour and a half, my love." I breathe out as I feel his fingers running up my spine. It gives me chills and echoes in my pulsing sex.

"I need you more than I need my work. I need you right now, right there." he promises. "And I will make sure that there's nothing in my way to fuck you throughly."

A chuckle escapes my mouth, "We have about three, maybe four hours until Adaline wakes up again."

His lips softly kiss mine, "Then we shouldn't waste any time, should we?"

His hands rest on my hips, as I stare into his eyes. "Is Troy Bolton really saying he can be late for work? The workaholic who loves doing what he does so much that he comes home in the middle of the night?" I ask him, lifting my forehead from his.

"I love you more than anything." he says back, "I need to fucking own you like I did before all this happened to us. I need to feel every single inch of you crying for me like you did in the past. I need-" I stop him with a kiss.

"You have four hours to make me even more sore than I already am, Mr. Bolton." I whisper, my tongue running over my lips. I already feel him walking, carrying me back to our bed room.

"I'll do my best." he promises me.

"How can you not be sore like me?" I ask him, resting my chin on his right shoulder. God, I love this man more than he'll ever know. He's a miracle. A sex-machine.

He stops in the middle of our bedroom, his hands placed on my butt. "Are you too sore?"

I shake my head, "I'm never going to be too sore from you. I'm never going to get enough of you."

I feel my heart beating fast as we reach the hidden room in our closet. His fingers pull out the key before unlocking the door and switching on the lights. "I'll do my best to satisfy your desire." he says, shutting the door close with his foot before he lets me down.

I can't believe my eyes ! A lot has changed in this room. It's still the same parquet floor though. The walnut wooden cupboards and shelves are new. The wall color has changed. The light green is gone instead there's a light beige color. The chandelier is still here but there are other soft light sources above the cupboards and shelves. There's a wall that has a beige quilt and black hooks. The hooks are empty though. Are these hooks for future tools?

"You changed the wall color." I notice as I take a walk around the room. It looks so much more elegantly, sophisticated and breathtaking. "You changed a lot."

"Yes. After you turning this room into something I didn't want, I had to change it in order for it to become what it should have been."

I nod, "I like it. The color is better. As with the furniture... Walnut looks better than the white we had." I walk over to the cupboards, opening one. "Ties?" I ask as my eyes see different colored silk ties. I let one of the silk ties glide through my hands before I open another cupboard. "Ropes?" I ask, seeing the silver, black, red and royal blue braided ropes in different lengths. We didn't have that the last time. There's so much change in this room, yet I feel as secure as I have ever felt. This room is nothing compared to what we had. There're no marks of the times I hid in here with Adaline when there was a storm happening or someone accidentally dropped something to the floor. The shattering noise, the rain clashing against the windows, the thunder and lighting in the sky... Nothing in here reminds me of the fears I had. Of the demons my husband chased away with me.

I turn around, watching my husband walking gracefully over to me. Even in pajama pants, my husband is the hottest man I've ever seen. No one can compare to him. I feel my breath quickening. "I thought we could step it up a notch."

"What's next? Cable ties?"

"No. We're not doing cable ties." he says, closing the cupboards for me. Cable ties are a hard limit for him - and for me too, as it were one of the things that had been wrapped around my wrists as I got kidnapped.

"We won't try these things out?"

"Not today." he promises me with a smirk on his lips. "One step at a time, Mrs. Bolton."

I nod, "One step at a time, Mr. Bolton." I echo him as my eyes wander further through the room. "There are leather cuffs hanging at the wall." I notice. Beige colored padded leather cuffs in different sizes. Some leather cuffs have lugs. They look nothing like the typical cuffs, they look so much more elegant.

"Yes. Custom made for your wrists."

He has put a lot of thinking into this new design. "And a gutter." I say, looking up. That's what these kind of leather cuffs are for. "We're not doing whips yet?" I joke as I look around. "Oh and floggers. I don't see any of those."

"No." he whispers."This is not about pain."

The bed is still the same bed as before. At least that stayed the same. Along with the floors. "Are we doing safe words now, too?"

His finger tips rest on my shoulder, "You already had your safe word long before I even had the idea for such a room."

"Andrew..." I whisper. My safe word is his fourth name. I've only used it once, but it has let it's mark on us. We don't need any colors or numbers... we only need his fourth name. "Are we doing soft and hard limits, too? I mean, I don't have any idea of what I like and don't..."

"I say, we try things out and go along wherever this may lead us to."

"What are you into?" I ask frowning. This room should be designed as much for my needs as for his. It shouldn't be just about me. It's our room.

"Your pleasure." he says as I turn around. His bright blue orbs have darken, I notice before I feel his lips crashing onto mine. I return his kiss, wrapping my arms around him. He lets go too soon, too quickly for me. Carefully, he strips me out of his white oxford shirt before rolling the fabric into one line. Fascinated, I watch him pulling on the shirt, testing the strength. "Do you trust me?" he asks me.

I nod, whatever's going on in his mind, I trust him. "Blindly."

"We shall first learn to walk before we run. Give me your wrists." he says and I do as he tells me to. Quickly, he starts knotting my wrists together with the white oxford shirt. I had no idea he could tie so many different knots! He pulls two fingers through the loops surrounding my wrists, to test if there's still enough space. "That's just right."

I am fascinated, aroused and anticipated, still in the darkness of what's next. I know he likes it when I don't move my hands sometimes, but tying my wrists… that's new. Usually, he holds them with one hand. Nevertheless, I am not scared.

"How are you feeling?" he asks me and I look up from my wrists.

His eyes make me lose my breath. He wants this. He needs this. Badly. "Aroused." I whisper and I realize I need this too.

"Good. Raise your arms." he says to me and I once again obey. I watch his eyes dancing down from the wrists to my navel. "Beautiful."

It's a side I don't know from my husband. But I guess, I am about to find out. He kisses me softly, ensuring me that I'm safe. I return his kiss, as if I wanted to tell him that I already know that. I trust him blindly just like I said. My wrists may be tight together, but that doesn't mean I can't still wrap my arms around my husband. He tastes so good. Suddenly, he lets go. With his hand on my back, he leads me over to the hooks on the quilted wall. I have no idea what he wants to do with those hooks.

"Raise your arms again." he says to me. Raising my arms, I finally understand what he wants to do with them. "Take a step back." he orders and I take a step back until I feel the beige leathered quilted wall behind my back. My tied wrists are on the same level as some of the hooks. I watch his fingers hooking the fabric surrounding my wrists on one of the hooks. I am pinned to the wall. Naked. My wrists tied with an oxford shirt. And I've never felt more erotic.

"You look absolutely stunning…" his eyes are sparkling and I know my eyes are sparkling too.

I smile at him, feeling steady ground beneath me. "How long have you been wanting to do this?" I ask him, licking my lips.

He shakes his head, "Too long, Mrs. Bolton… Definitely too long." his eyes dance down my body.

I feel my breath getting stuck in my lungs as his eyes lock with mine again. He looks so hot, so dangerous… so beautiful. "Stop torturing me." I say into his eyes. I can't bare this any longer.

He steps closer to me, burying his nose in the nape of my neck. "You smell so good, Ella…" his lips kiss down my wishbone and I even don't try to hide my arousal. Slowly his lips move down my body, stopping at my breasts. His fingers start twisting my nipples until they're stiff and my sex is wet. I tilt my head back as I feel the orgasm building inside of me so rapidly, I wouldn't have expected it. He lets go of my breasts and my eyes pop open. Before I can say anything, I feel his hands on my hips, twisting me around so my right cheek meets the quilted leather of the wall. I feel my wrists tied even tighter. So that's why he proved the space. I feel my shallow breath as my upper body is pressed against the wall. Eagerly, I await for his next move. I try to lift my head from the wall and see what he's doing, but I am too tight to the wall. I am at his mercy. And I love every fucking second. I hear his pajama pants falling to the ground. Suddenly, I feel his hands on my stomach, pulling my lower body further away from the wall. His fingers dip into my wet sex quickly, as if he wanted to test if I am ready. I thought by now he'd know I am always ready for him. No matter the time or the position I am in. "Oh you're so fucking ready for me." he whispers into my ear before I feel him thrusting into me. It's so strong, that I feel my upper body clashing against the wall. I let out an aroused cry, my body clearly enjoying this new turn we took. Merciless, he starts pumping into me. Quicker. Harder. Than ever before.

And I feel my body responding to his needs so perfectly. This may be new, but definitely not less enjoyable than before. Moans starts escaping my mouth as I hear his shallow breath ringing in my ear. Suddenly, I feel his hand clashing against my butt. There's a sharp sensation floating through my body and I let out my biggest moan yet. Instead of feeling pain, fear or shock, I feel pleasure running through my veins. It just feels so fucking good… Out of the sudden, I feel him exiting me. It feels so abruptly, that I cry out. It's a cry filled with frustration and arousal at the same time. It was so good and now it's over? Without any satisfaction at all? He turns me around again. The fabric around my wrists is even tighter than before now. It feels so strange to not touch my beautiful man. His eyes are dark, almost black. I bite my lip, being absolutely fascinated by this animalistic vibe he has going on. He takes my legs, wraps them around his waist, before pressing my body against the wall again. My mouth forms a big O as I feel his huge erection slowly entering me, stretching me out. There's a cry escaping my lungs as I have never felt him this deeply before. It's wonderful. His lips catch my cry, his tongue exploring my mouth as he starts moving. It feels so good to feel him touching places he hasn't been before.

"Oh fuck, Ella… this feels so fucking good…" his voice is like a whisper as I feel my orgasm building as quickly as it has never before. Feeling him inside of me, feeling his kisses on my wishbone, my wrists tied up and my arms being lifted… being at his mercy… giving him complete control of me…. Suddenly, I burst into this huge, wonderful orgasm. I see stars as I hear the blood rushing through my veins, my body shaking as my nerves go crazy. A few moments later I hear him coming as well, crying out my name as I still deal with my orgasm. It's so wonderful to almost come together… it feels so good.

As I open my eyes I stare into bright blue orbs. There's nothing dark, nothing black and nothing animalistic left in the eyes of my husband. He's as beautiful as ever.

"How was that?" his fingers brush through my hair.

I'm probably grinning like an idiot right now, "You may repeat that any time you want, Mr. Bolton."

He kisses me quickly before I feel him exiting me. I growl, almost in frustration. I didn't want this to stop. It felt so good. His hands move up my legs, which are still wrapped around his waist. "You were amazing. Absolutely breathtaking…" he says, licking his lips.

"Likewise… I mean that was… I've never done that before." I say into his eyes. My arms start to feel a bit heavy, but I don't really mind. "I had no idea you wanted to do this with me. But I liked it. A lot."

"I am not done with you yet." Out of the sudden, he grabs my legs and puts them on his shoulder blades. Taking a step back, he now stretches my body. I am hanging in the air, yet I haven't felt more safe.

Confused, I stare at him. "What- Ah!" A cry escapes my mouth as I feel his tongue dancing around my clitoris. His mouth starts kissing, his lips sucking. Fuck, he was definitely right when he said he's not done with me yet. I feel this sweet, sweet sensation building again. Moans start escaping my mouth as my husband performs absolutely magical. As I feel his teeth carefully biting into my flesh, cries start escaping my mouth again. I pull on the wrists, trying to free my arms as I start winding under this sweet, sweet pleasure. He is so quick, so careful… so good.

Quickly, I am all sweaty again. With a shallow breath, I enjoy everything he does to me and with me. I forget everything around me. All I feel is my husband performing magic to me, creating a kind of orgasm I didn't know was possible. I had no idea this could feel so good…

Suddenly, I raise my torso bursting under the orgasm. I cry out his name, my feet flexing on his shoulder. Oh my lovely, wonderful husband has done it again…

I open my eyes as I feel steady ground beneath my feet again. My breath is still irregular as I watch his hands reach for the white fabric and releasing my wrists from the tie. My arms clash down beneath me, now feeling heavy. There's a smile forming on my lips as my eyes find his.

"I love you." I say into his eyes, meaning every word. I had no idea I'd be able to do, to experience such things. He has opened up a whole new beautiful world for me. Our new world.

He kisses me softly, before he picks me up. "I love you, too."

Carrying me over to the bed in the room he carefully places me on it. It's only then, that I notice his erection. It aroused him to make me come.

I bite my lip, as he sits down next to me. "You're hard."

He looks me in the eyes, "I'm always hard when I'm with you."

"I think we should do something about that." I go down to my knees, before taking his erection into my mouth. A sharp tone escapes the mouth of my husband as I start doing what I can do best: caress my husband. Slowly, I start licking, letting my tongue dance around the most precious part of my husband. I love every part of my husband. I cherish every single centimeter of him.

"Oh fuck, Ella…" he growls my nickname as I speed up. I can feel his grip on my shoulders tightening. "Yes, yes…. Oh you're so good…"

I wish I were able to talk as much when he's building my orgasm. Suddenly his hands pull my head away. Confused, I stare up. I thought he liked it. I thought he wanted this.

He bites his lip, "I want you riding me." His bright blue eyes are on fire. On a fire that I created.

I had no idea he has so much self-control. A smile appears on my lip, "Okay…" I say, lifting myself from the floor. I sit down on his thighs, my breasts brushing his face. I feel his pulsing erection beneath my sex, which starts wetting from this touch. I kiss him, getting drunk in his scent. He's my perfect match. I feel my hands moving down his back, my fingernails digging into his muscles. He lets go of my lips and I lift myself, before I slowly let him fill me up. I close my eyes as I feel him stretching me. I can't believe how well we work together. How aroused I can be when we're together.

"Are you okay?" he asks me as I open my eyes.

I smile before I push him down to the bed. I start riding him and he responses with moans I've rarely heard from him. It's a deep, erotic sound. A sign he enjoys it just as much as I do. I place my hands on his upper body, speeding up. His hands find my hips, helping me move even faster. It's quick, hard and oh so enjoyable. I feel his hands moving up my body as I am still riding him. My bouncing breasts are covered by his hands as they start massaging me. He starts stiffing and I know he's close to coming. Suddenly, one hand stops at my vagina. I feel his fingers rubbing on my clitoris as moans are escaping our mouths. I come quickly, hearing a rush of blood in my ears. A moment later I hear him growling as he comes inside of me. He comes longer than before and I enjoy every second of it. As he opens his eyes he looks into mine, before lifting himself. His lips start kissing my nipples before they kiss my wishbone and finally my lips.

"You are fucking perfect." he says into my eyes as I exit him.

I feel hot and tired… and oh so satisfied. "You know how to treat your wife, Mr. Bolton."

He smiles at me, "Yes, I do. And you do, too."

I lay down next to him, resting my head on my bent elbow. "We should do this more often."

"Yes, we should." he agrees with me. His fingers are running up and down my waist. "A lot more often…"

I grab his hand and lace his fingers with mine. "When did you change the interior?"

He smiles at me, "The weekend we were in Swansea."

I grin, "You tricked me into going to Swansea with you while craftsmen redid this room?" Suddenly, I find it weird that people other than us were in this room. I mean, given the interior, they must have known exactly what this is for...

His fingertips fondle my cheek, "Yes. I had every one of the craftsmen sign a confidential paper, though."

I kiss his wedding band, "I like the new design. It's a clean start."

"It's what I wanted."

"Right choice as always." I say as I stretch out my limbs, "God, I'm going to be so sore." I think out loud.

"Good. I want you to remember where I've been." he says, brushing through my hair.

Although it's been months since we last had sex, in this moment right here it feels like nothing has changed. We are what we are best: Each other's soulmates.

* * *

 **Another important chapter for Gabriella's recovery. Please review.**

 **Xoxo**


	16. Chapter 16

I wake up feeling as sore as ever. My naked body is covered by a warm blanket, my head's resting on a soft pillow - I slept in our bed. I don't remember that we made it to our bed this morning. With my hands I reach out to my left but all I feel is emptiness. My husband is already up and awake. My eyes move over to the watch, it's nine thirty. I hear a zipper closing and my eyes automatically move over to our walk-in closet. I catch my husband getting into his white oxford shirt. Shamelessly, I stare at my well toned husband. His abs get covered by the white fabric as he buttons up the shirt. How can he be alright after all we did?! He fucked me again and again until all I saw were stars and felt dizzy. I completely forgot how good that feels. It was exactly what we needed.

I raise myself and put the pillow behind my back before leaning against the headboard of the bed, enjoying the view. "Good morning." My voice sounds hoarse due to the many lustful cries in the last hours.

His hands pick up a silk silver tie before he walks over to me. He's already showered. His hair is glossy and he's full of energy. "Morning my love." As he bends down to kiss me I grab the silver tie from his hands. Our lips meet and I realize that mine are still swollen from before. His hands dig into my hair as he fills the kiss with passion. Too soon he lets go of my lips so I tighten the tie behind his shoulders before pulling him closer to me again. I press my forehead against his. "How can you not be sore?" I ask in a whisper. "I'm not even able to walk today, I'm afraid."

There's a satisfied grin on his lips, "If you don't let me go, I will fuck you all over again. Your naked boobs don't make it easy for me to resist." His hands fondle my cheeks. "And you smell of mind blowing sex... you smell so good." He inhales deeply.

"I wouldn't mind that." I whisper into his ear. As I look into his eyes again, I see his everlasting desire for me.

"I should've told Lucas that I want this day off." He growls.

I bite my lip, "Go save the world my hero." I let him go and quickly tie the knot around his neck. "Now you're ready."

As on call, Adaline's voice cries through the baby phone. She uses her head voice and I know right away what she needs. "She needs a diaper change."

"I'll go." He says to me before kissing me quickly, "You should get some sleep. You deserve it."

I pull the blanket over my upper body and close my eyes. I am still exhausted, yet I haven't felt more alive. It's this toxic mixture which I love so much. "Just know, your wife is laying naked in our bed and will stay horny until you come home from work and fuck her thoroughly." I call after him before I get out of bed. Yawning I stretch my arms in the air as my feet slowly walk into the bathroom. Surprisingly, the more I move the less I feel sore. Brushing through my hair, I pick up a towel before placing it on the edge of the tub. I step into the shower and close the glass door before I turn on the warm water. I step under the rain shower head and close my eyes as the warm water touches my skin. I feel my muscles relaxing as I pour shampoo in my hands. I start washing my hair, my voice summing a melody for which I have not written any words yet. One night filled with sex and I am creative again. Only Troy Bolton can do that. I wash the shampoo out of my hair and put conditioner on my ends. I foam the shower gel in my hands by rubbing them before I start washing my body. I wince as I feel the warm hands of my husband touching my stomach before I feel his chin resting on my shoulder. I place my hands on his and chuckle, "What are you doing?" I ask him and turn around to face him. God, my husband looks absolutely breathtaking in the steam of this shower.

"How can I leave my wife when she tells me she'll stay horny until I come home from work again?" he asks me, his lips forming a grin as he's just as addicted to me as I am to him.

I shake my head in disbelief as his hands wander up my body, stopping at my boobs. "It's not news to me."

"Well it is news to me as it is the first time you voiced this issue."

I brush through his hair, wetting it again. "How else should I have let you get to work the past years? How else should I have survived the times you are not by my side? You are better looking than Michelangelo's David and more sex driven than any one else I know. You are just as addicted to me as I am to you. You freed me because you let me be myself. We are the same horny people."

There's a smile on his lips, "You are just too good to be true."

I reflect his smile and lace my hands with his. "The same goes for you."

He pulls me closer to him and I feel his pulsing erection against my sex, demanding satisfaction as our lips meet. I unlace my hands from his and embrace him, getting lost in his kiss. Our tongues start battling as I let my fingers dance down his back. I can feel his muscles vibrating from my touch so much that it responses in my sex. A shower with my husband is never just a shower to get clean. He lets go of my lips before his mouth wanders further south, kissing my neck, my wishbone and stoping at my right nipple. "You're going to be late if we don't stop. I won't let you go to work if we don't stop. I…" a moan escapes my mouth as his lips starts sucking and his teeth twisting my nipple. My fingers on his back start digging and scratching without my control. I can feel my nerves reacting from the source of my nipple to the end of my left big toe. One touch and I am under his mercy again. Suddenly, he lets go and I open my eyes. I can feel my pulsing sex as I watch his head rising before his eyes meet mine.

"I'm not leaving my horny wife at home. I won't leave my unsatisfied wife at home while I sit behind a desk being just as horny as she is, counting the minutes until I see her again. No, I won't do that. I did it before, but I won't do it again."

I bite my lip, "Home office when I'm satisfied then?"

His thumb runs over my lip, freeing it from my teeth. "Yes." he agrees before kissing again. He kisses me harder, more passionate this time and I quickly feel the hard marble wall behind my back. Our tongues start battling as my fingers start running down his back again. I squeeze his butt as his teeth bite softly into my lower lip. My sex starts pulsing in the same rhythm as his, wanting this union so badly. His hands find mine on his butt and he takes them before lacing his hands with mine. He lets go of my lips, stretching my arms to the side. I feel hot, steamy and oh so horny as his dark blue orbs sparkle through the steam that the hot running water has created. His lips start kissing my wishbone again and I moan heavily to every time his lips touch my skin. He makes me go crazy so easily. He makes me want him so easily.

"Troy…" I whisper his name as he kisses his way to my navel. It's a plea only he knows what I mean with. I watch him go on his knees, feeling my arms stretching a bit more above my head now. It feel so good… so good. He kisses each side of my hips, before his lips move further down. There's an unbearable pulsing sensation in my sex as his lips touch my mons. I start winding under his touch, his kisses, begging for more. With his knees he spreads my legs further open, "I want my wife to be satisfied by all means." his voice is only a whisper in my ears as all I hear is my pulse.

"Please…" I beg once more and watch his head disappearing between my legs. I cry out in pleasure as his lips start sucking, his tongue dancing and his teeth biting in my flesh. My legs start shaking, my muscles vellicating. So quickly, he has made me so horny and needy again. I feel my pulse getting louder in my ears, my heartbeat rising… He kisses my most aroused part before his lips move north again. "You taste so good my love…"

He didn't do it to satisfy me and I squeeze our laced hands in frustration. My husband reacts with a chuckle as he raises again. The smile is still visible in his eyes as they look into mine.

"You're not playing fair." I respond.

He licks his lips, "Why am I suppose to play fair when all you need is one look to make my best part diamond hard again?"

Now it's my time to form a satisfied grin, "Diamond hard?"

He unlaces his hands from mine and I place my hands on his chest. "Yes, you can make that part of my body go crazy, too."

I brush through his hair as he takes a step closer to me. I feel his pulsing erection against my stomach, he's already so big, so hard again. It'll take more than once to satisfy my husband's and my desire. "I think we should do something about that…" I open my hips and he lets his erection glide into me. Slowly with control, he starts stretching me and filling me up. I close my eyes and tilt my head back as I cry out in pure pleasure.

"Yes you feel good, too." he agrees with me before kissing the corner of my mouth as he's still not fully in me. I breathe heavily as I open my eyes, staring into the most beautiful mixture of turquoise and dark blue. My mouth forms a big O as I fully embrace him. I am sore, yet I have never felt better. This has never felt better… he has never felt bigger, deeper and better.

"Fuck," I breathe out as I hear my heart beating in my chest, "you feel so fucking amazing." I voice my thoughts and wrap my right leg around his hips. It's the shift in my weight, the tiny movement that make his precious part go deeper just a little bit. A growl escapes the lungs of my husband and I know he feels it too. It's a place he hasn't touched before, an angle we have yet to discover. I let my fingers travel down his back, feeling his strong muscles working as he slowly starts exiting me. The right leg I have wrapped around the hips of my husband flexes as the tip of his penis brushes my sex. A chuckle escapes my lungs that he turns into one of my biggest moans yet as he thrusts into me with no regrets. My back clashes against the marbled wall, my sex surprised by this. I feel my sex responding by pulsing and my foot on the floor starts flexing. I kiss the left cheek of my husband, allowing him to go faster and harder because I know that's what he wants and what we need. He starts moving faster, thrusting harder into me. I can feel the muscles on his hips and butt, doing the work we both have so much pleasure experiencing. Quickly, I feel the heat inside of me rising, the orgasm building and my nerves reacting to his needs. As on call, I can feel his sex reacting to mine as I feel coming closer. Suddenly, he stops in his movement, being half-way in and out. I open my eyes and stare into his marbled orbs. "What's wrong?"

"I want your other leg wrapped around my hips as well." he says, his fingers carefully brushing through my hair. "I want you to lean back as far as you can and trust me to not let you fall."

I nod as I feel his hands on my booty. His palms are warm, his grip tight. I raise my other leg and wrap it around the hips of my husband. He growls as I shift our weight and I moan as I feel his penis moving inside of me. No, we didn't expect to be this horny, yet we are. He takes a step back and I feel the tips of shoulders touching the marble wall behind me.

"Do an hollow back." he orders and I flex my hips. I cry out in surprises as I feel the sensation of pleasure echoing in my sex. Oh sweet Jesus…

"And now enjoy the show, Mrs. Bolton." his voice is a whisper and I feel my fingers digging into his back as he starts moving again. This time it's not slowly and carefully, it's hard and powerful. Within a few seconds I burst into the best orgasm of his morning. I cry out in pleasure and I am not even sure I say his name like I mostly do. The toes of my feet start flexing, my fingernails start digging into the hard muscles of my husband's butt as the orgasm rushes through my whole body making me see starts. As I still deal with my orgasm, I feel him thrusting into me once more before he comes in a loud growl, releasing all his tension at once. A chuckle escapes my lungs as his hands move up the sides of my body, squeezing me just at my rips. I feel his erection shrinking as his legs take a step closer to me. He opens his eyes and I stare into bright blue orbs that sparkle into mine. In this moment I know I am sparkling too.

"And I thought what we did in the fucking room was amazing." I breathe out with a smile on my lips.

He reflects my smile, his fingers brushing through my wet hair, "There are no boundaries I don't want to cross with you, Mrs. Bolton."

"Good, because I feel the same way with you, Mr. Bolton." I say as I unwrap my legs from his hips. He flexes his hips back and I feel him exiting me. His erection is no longer there, yet his penis doesn't look any less impressive. "It's the first time you're satisfied after just one orgasm." I say as my eyes still rest on the precious part of my husband's body.

There's a chuckle escaping his lungs, "You think I am satisfied?"

His fingertips lift up my chin until our eyes meet, "You're not?"

He shakes his head, "It took us two years for my penis to have not an erection when I exit you. But that doesn't mean I am satisfied. I am always aching for you. I am always aching for being inside of me and fucking you sore. When you're sore, I know I should be pleased with my work. And sometimes I am…. And then, like today, you say things like this and I just have to come back to you. I have to fuck you for as long as you shall let me until you use our safe word. Which to my surprise, you haven't said once in the last hours I've been inside of me, enjoying the warmth tightness of your body."

I squeeze his butt, "I enjoy the width you make me feel, too."

He laughs again before he picks up the shower gel to my right. I watch him pour it on his hands before he starts foaming it by rubbing his hands. I bite my lip, anticipating his touch. There's a grin on his lips as he starts washing his body instead of mine.

"Oh you're a devil!" I cry out but my voice gets lost in his chuckles as he washes his chest. "Fine, you want it that way, you can get it that way." I say as I watch him washing his legs and penis before he takes a step underneath the rain shower head. Quickly, I place my hand on the tap and turn the water icy cold. To my surprise my husband doesn't even wince under the coldness that clashes against his body.

"Oh no, you didn't." his voice is filled with a playful warning tone.

"Oh yes I did…" I say back with a satisfied grin. "That's what you get for not washing your wife. Or at least let your wife wash you." It seems like the cold water does something to him anyway. Out of the sudden, his hand grabs my hips and pull my under the running water. He wraps his arms around my body to make sure I don't move anywhere. With his other hand he turns the water to hot again, I notice as I first feel cold and then hot water again. A laughter escapes my lungs as endorphins start rushing through my system. It's been so long since I felt this happy… it feels so good to laugh that way again.

* * *

Exhaling, I stay in downward facing dog. I stretch out my arms, relax my shoulders and feel a really good stretch in my hamstrings. There's soft mediation music coming out of the speakers. Candles are lit to help me relax. I can hear Adaline squeaking as her face sees my head upside down again. I've been doing yoga for over an hour now and downward facing dog is by far her most favorite position.

"You shouldn't be laughing at me. Daddy has made mommy incredibly sore last night and this morning so I really need this otherwise the next time we'll have sex I won't be able to walk anymore. And then you won't be laughing the way you are right now." I warn her with a smile on my lips. Troy's been in his office for the last hours, doing work and phone conferences. Our daughter should be asleep at this time but somehow she just doesn't want to. She enjoys watching me doing yoga. Adaline responds with a laugh and I roll my eyes before I go through a chaturanga. My muscles are no longer sore, I notice as this is the third time in a row that I can go through it smoothly. I move into scorpion pose and stay in this position for five minutes, inhaling deeply. This is exactly what I needed to relax. It was exactly what I needed to be connected to myself. I go through another chaturanga and feel as light as a feather - the same feeling I have every time my husband carries me. My eyes widen as I stop in downward facing dog again.

"Oh I had no idea yoga could be so sexy…" there's a seductive smile on my husband's lips.

I return his smile, "I'm doing this because of you."

"Yes, you need all your flexibility for me." he agrees with me before picking up Adaline from the floor where she has been sitting on.

I roll my eyes, "You should thank me for my flexibility. Otherwise we'd only have sex in three positions!" I go through another chaturanga and stop in a sun salutation with my hands over my heart. As I turn around, I don't trust my vision. Adaline has fallen asleep in Troy's arms. Within less than two minutes! "How did you do that?" I ask him in surprise.

He looks at me with a smile on his lips, "Baby whisperer secret."

I chuckle and roll my eyes at him before rolling my mat together. "I gave up trying to put her to sleep and you just come out of your office, pick her up and boom she falls asleep." I say as I put the yoga mat away. I watch him laying Adaline in the baby chair. She looks so peaceful and happy. She's the perfect mixture of him and me.

"She knows what her daddy wants to do with mommy is not for her eyes and ears."

I raise an eyebrow at him, "My muscles are still recovering."

"But you are no longer sore. I saw you glide through the positions. It's green light for me." he rests his hands on my hips.

I place my hands around his neck, "There's always green light for you, my love." I agree with him.

"Yet it's me who has to know when to stop." he whispers before he kisses me. I return his kiss feeling hot and alive. My muscles relax and tighten at the same time as my body responds to his needs. I just did yoga for over an hour and I haven't sweat a bit. One hot kiss from my husband and I am all sweaty. I let go of his lips, being totally breathless. "We should eat before we get any further."

His fingers brush through my hair, "I cook, you watch."

I smile, "I could help."

He shakes his head, "Let me pamper my wife before I will suck every bit of energy out of her."

A chuckle escapes my lungs as we walk into the kitchen. "Deal, Mr. Bolton."

"Deal, Mrs. Bolton."

* * *

I take a sip of the water as I finish the handmade gnocchi of my husband. "I'd like to talk about what happened this morning."

He nearly chokes on his wine, "Didn't you like it?"

I chuckle, "That isn't my issue."

"So, you do have an issue with what happened?"

Is he insecure or just curious? Either way, I love seeing him this way. "No." I try very hard to hide my smile.

"What's bothering you then?"

I lean back in my chair, "What happened this morning just... it kept crossing my mind."

"In a good way or bad way?"

I shrug, "I don't know."

"Do you want us to stop? I can lock that door and throw away the key. Or get the hammer out and we make a bigger closet-"

"No. I like it. I want it to stay. I think it's important for our relationship as well as our future."

"Good."

"I just... I keep wondering... since when do you wanted to do this?" I finally ask him.

He leans back in his chair, "You didn't like it."

"No, I really, really enjoyed it. But what's been eating me is the fact that you kept this inside of you for so long... I mean, we've been together for two years and all you ever did was hold my arms up."

"We've been together for 28 months."

I gulp, of course my husband counts. "28 months then. But in these 28 months you never... I mean, where does this come from? Is this because of the kidnapping? Is this some kind of after-effect from it?"

"You think I am doing this because I killed three people for you?" he asks me back, sounding hurt.

"I don't think anything. I am asking you. Since when did you want to do these things with me?"

He brushes through his hair, "Since the day you told me about your past."

I almost fall of the chair, "Since... since... Wow... I mean... I mean, why?" My mouth can't seem to form a sentence.

"Your past... these men... what they did to you... I don't know something triggered inside of me. From that day on all I wanted was to keep you safe and...". He doesn't finish the sentence. Instead he shrugs.

I gulp, "Do you... I don't know, I mean do you... do you feel the need to tame me?" I ask him slowly, unsure if he wants to hear my question and I want to hear the answer.

He sighs, "I don't know..."

"But this has to come from somewhere, doesn't it? I mean there has to be a reason..."

"Maybe this is something we should discuss with Dr. Wyatt." he smirks at me.

"I enjoy crossing boundaries with you. I enjoy it a lot." I reach out for his hand.

"Then where's your problem?" he asks me as his fingers lace with mine.

I bite my lip, "I'm just surprised you showed me this new side of you. I thought I knew every side of you..."

"We can stop whenever you want."

"No, I don't want to stop. We'll go down this road together."

* * *

 **A new chapter. Please review!**

 **Xoxo**


	17. Chapter 17

A few months later:

Yawning, I slowly walk down the steps that lead down to the kitchen. The smell of caffeine starts filling my nostrils. It's been another sleepless night for me as our daughter just kept on wanting to throw her own little party. So I kept entertaining her with every song that my tired mind could think of and we walked through the house more times than I could have counted. We surely walked a few kilometers this night. I stop abruptly as I see my husband pouring coffee into his mug, wearing a light grey colored suit. He looks so awake, so full of energy. As always he is the opposite of me.

"Morning." His face is smiling.

I take the coffee mug out of his hand and take a sip, "Coffee. I need coffee..."

"Are you alright?" he looks worried.

I nod, "I'm just so tired. It's just... months of staying home, taking care of Adaline. I am exhausted. I want something... more. I have a routine: Wake up, feed Adaline, go for a walk with her while sipping on a smoothie, doing Yoga and Pilates with her before she falls asleep again. Then I greet Elsa once a week when she comes with groceries. Sometimes I workout with Krimov and sometimes I just fall asleep as well. I am sick of doing more or less the same each day. I can't even remember the last time I showered!" I breathe out, "Tell me, when was the last time I showered?"

"Yesterday morning. With me after my run. It was a good shower. I fucked you twice." There's a smirk on his lips.

"Really?" I ask him back in disbelief. It feels so long ago. I even forgot we had sex. How can I forget that?

He frowns, "Do you want to start looking for a nanny?"

I sigh, "No... yes... no... no, not right now."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I wanted to take care of her myself for at least a year and this is exactly what I will do."

"We can start looking anyways..."

I sigh, "I just..."

"I know exactly what you need." He places his hands on my hips.

"And what do I need?"

"You need a change of scenery." there's a smirk on my lips, which is just unavoidable for me to not mirror.

"What's on your plan, Mr. Bolton?" I ask him, tilting my head to the side.

"An evening with dinner. Just the two of us." he says, brushing through my hair. "I'll arrange everything. From Adaline's babysitter to our activities."

I nod, "I like that. An evening just for ourselves… God, when was the last time we had that?" I ask, chuckling.

"Just leave everything to me." He says kissing my cheek. "You won't regret it."

* * *

"Okay, so what's bothering you, Gabriella?" Dr. Wyatt asks me. I look up and meet her glance. This woman quickly started reading me better than I can myself.

"We have..." I look at Troy. His blue eyes stare into mine. "We have taken a new turn in our sex life and it is making me..."

"Worried?" Dr. Wyatt asks.

I look back at her, "I don't know. I am surprised that... that I enjoy it so much but at the same time I am wondering where the hell this is coming from."

She leans back on her chair, "Okay, about what kind of development are we talking here?"

"Bondage." Troy answers for me.

"Okay and which one of you..." she stops as she writes something down, "likes to be tied?"

"Me." I say with a shrug, "He knows how to..."

"Whose idea was that?"

"Well," Troy starts, "we have a hidden room in our closet. A room for... pleasure."

"A room for pleasure?" she asks.

"More like sex." I say with a shrug, "Hard sex."

"Ah..." she writes down something more, "How long have you had this room?"

"Troy surprised me with this room when we came back from our honeymoon."

"So over eight months ago."

"Yes." I agree.

"Why did you built this room?" she asks my husband.

"I wanted a room dedicated to us. We are pretty much addicted to each other... and I thought of our future and... We want a big family. And children running around, sharing at one point our bed with us... I wanted a room where we could be our most naked selves."

"Lovers." Dr. Wyatt says to him.

He nods, "Lovers, to cut it short."

"There's nothing wrong with that." she ensures me, "What's your problem with that?"

"Bondage is... new. And hot... and scary."

"Scary?" Troy asks me.

"Not in as I don't trust you, more like I don't know where this is going to. I don't know where this is coming from. And that's what's bothering me."

"How about we start digging then?" she asks us. We both nod in agreement. "Troy, since when do you have the wish to not necessarily bond her, but more like... feel the need to hold her tight?"

I look at my husband. His bright blue eyes look at me and I can see him thinking, trying to remember a date. His lips form a thin line and I know he has found one. "I thought it was the day she told me about her abuses... but now I realized it was the day she left me for the first time."

I frown, "You mean the day you told me about your NSA history and I gave you the engagement ring back?"

"No."

"Which day do you mean?"

"The day you left me for the first time. Literally."

"You mean-"

"In the hospital. The day we met. The day I asked you out. The day you left me for the first time."

My mouth drops open, "28 months ago?"

He smiles, "You remember."

"Yes, I remember you saying that the last time we talked about it."

"But what exactly is it that makes you want to bond her to you?" Dr. Wyatt asks again.

His eyes look at her, "Every time she leaves me I feel..." he stops.

"You feel what?" she asks him.

He rolls his eyes and I smirk. He has never rolled his eyes in front of Dr. Wyatt before. "I feel like she's taking a part of me with her that I can't leave without."

I frown as I think about his words and feel my eyes watering up as I understand. "You take my heart with you, too." I say back with a smile on my lips.

"And knowing what they did to you... your father, the pastor, Tanner, my enemies... it drives me crazy. All I want to do is lock you into that room and fuck over and over again."

"Until what?" Dr. Wyatt asks.

His head swings around, looking at the psychiatrist, "You tell me. I don't know why I feel the need to."

"How is it different being with her in that room than being anywhere else?"

He sighs, "When we are in that room... I know her cries, her body, her soul - it all belongs to me. Her voice touches something deep deep inside of me."

"What inside of you?"

"I don't know. It's not my heart and it's not my sex. It goes deeper than my imagination, deeper than any feelings I could ever have... and then..."

"And then what?"

"Something switches inside of me and I fuck her. Hard. As hard as she allows me to until she comes. Again and again. Or at least until she says our safe word."

"You have a safe word?"

"Andrew. His fourth name." I say with a shrug.

"Why that?"

"We didn't choose it... it chose us." I explain with another shrug, "I said it the first time back in New York and he just... he knew he had to stop."

"Have you ever used it again?"

"No..." I look at my husband.

"Is the sex in that room... is it without any emotions at all?"

I watch Troy's face frowning, "I can't switch my emotions for my wife off. No matter the place or time. My feelings for her in that room..."

"What about them? Are they different?"

"Not different." He shakes his head before his eyes find mine. "It's more intense."

My mouth dries out, yes it's definitely more intense in there.

"Did you guys talk about it prior this appointment?"

"Talking about it is not our issue." Troy explains, leaning forward.

"We talked it through over lunch and figured we should talk to you. Seek a professional opinion."

"Because I need to know why the hell I have this urge inside of me." Troy agrees with me.

"How does it make you feel, Gabriella?"

My head swings around and my eyes meet her's. "I feel good. I know there's this moment in which he switches. It's hard to explain but every time we're in that room something at some point switches. Something in both of us. Sometimes in only him... and in these moments we give into our deepest needs. Our deepest desires and we ...fuck. There is no loving soft slow gestures, no fondling and no stroking. We fuck each other's brains out. Again and again. And I enjoy it not less than he does."

"Do you still have sex in other places or is it just in this room?"

"It's not just in the room for pleasure that we have sex in, we have sex at different places..."

"But it's different in there." She points out. "Would you say you need this?"

"No." Troy answers.

"Yes." I say instead, causing his eyes to look at me. He seems surprised. "Don't look at me this way. You need this too. This hard, animalistic driven sex. You need this. It's inside of you."

His lips form a thin line, "I don't need it if it makes you feel uncomfortable in any way."

I grab his hand, "It doesn't... it's almost like you know me better than I know myself. You revealed a world that's so wonderful, so full of emotions... I need this, too."

He smiles at me before looking at Dr. Wyatt, "What do you think?"

"I think people have sex differently. Some have sex only in a bed under the sheets with the lights out, while others have sex in public because they enjoy the adrenaline, the thrill that comes with it. Some people use toys, others don't... and then there are people who have a room dedicated to pleasure. A room just for them."

My eyes dance down my husband's body. This room is definitely for us only.

"Gabriella, I have one question for you."

My head swings around, facing insecure green eyes. "Okay."

"Given your past, the sexual assault, the abuse, the raping, the kidnapping, the mobbing in high school... and all the after effects. How do you feel in there? How do you feel in those situations?"

I frown. Why is she mentioning my past? "I'm not sure where this is going to go."

"Have you ever had flashbacks in that room?"

"No, not once. I don't think about the past in that room. I am present by all means."

"Do you feel safe?"

"With Troy? Of course I do." I squeeze his hand.

"No, I mean do you feel safe in your own skin?"

I gulp, understanding her question. She wants to know if I accept all that has happened to me. "Yes."

"And in there?"

"I hid in there from the rain and the other side effects from the kidnapping. It was my sanctuary."

"That wasn't an answer."

"I have never felt safer in my whole life."

"Good."

"No, not good. I still don't know why I have this urge. It's why we're here." Troy interrupts, his blue eyes looking at Dr. Wyatt. "Tell me why I do what I do." He demands.

"Troy, this is not how I-"

"You question my wife all about her fucking security issues and you can't tell why the hell I want to fuck her again and again in that room. And she lets me do that? With her? To her?"

I pull on our holding hands, "Hey, I said I want that too. It's not you in there alone. You're not torturing me. You are not _them._ You're giving me what I need."

His blue eyes don't move away from Dr. Wyatt, "Tell me!"

Her lips form a thin line, "Because you have the fear that she might be gone forever one day."

I feel my mouth falling open as I understand my husband's fear oh so clearly. I squeeze his hand, locking eyes with him. "I am alive."

His eyes search for something in mine as his lips remain shut. He really is afraid of me leaving him forever. He's afraid of my death. I brush through his hair and he closes his eyes as Dr. Wyatt's words seem to hit him even harder than they hit me. As he opens them again I can see the glassiness that almost rips my heart apart. "I know." his voice is a whisper that rings deep in my bones.

I look back at Dr. Wyatt, "So, how do we fix him?"

She smiles at me, "There is no way I am able to fix him. Death is a fear we all have in one way or another. It's part of life."

I feel his hand squeezing mine again as the pulse inside of me rises. I can't imagine my life without him as well. It scares the shit out of me.

"You guys jumped the death of the shovel more times than you can count. You are constantly saving one another while saving yourself at the same time." she puts her pen and notebook down. "I have never met an as unhealthy couple as you. You guys breathe for each other - literally. It's the kind of love that books were written and movies were filmed about. Not even Shakespeare could have written a story as tragic as your's. But in the middle of all of this... You need each other. You are madly, deeply in love with each other's smiles, anger, laughs, dominance, smells, stubbornness and bodies. You love one other's heart and souls. Deeply." she starts explaining to us out of the blue. "You killed for one another - and you'd do it again. There's nothing you guys wouldn't do for each other. No mountain too high, no risk too daring, no secret too dirty. From a psychiatrist's point of you, I would have never paired you up. Because an abused child paired with a control freak who has been abused once as well and wants to dominate her in every circumstance is never a good match. But you... You amaze me. Your love amazes me."

I lean back on the couch, letting her words linger in the air. I look at my husband, who seems just as amazed by her words. "Did you just understand anything she said?"

He shrugs, "Something about me loving you more than I love myself."

Dr. Wyatt chuckles, "This is why we don't have to fix this issue. Your sex life is part of your development as a couple. For now it involves bondage, who knows what will be in five years? Don't worry so much, Gabriella."

I look at the woman who has been analyzing us for the past ten months. "You want me to go with the flow?"

"Yes. As long as you guys both enjoy it, there's no harm in anything you do."

"Okay..." I trail off, still surprised by her professional opinion. I thought she'd see some kind of danger in this, when she doesn't see any danger at all.

"I am proud of you because you talked this through. You communicated without me the proper way. I think my work is done."

"Wait, what?" I ask her surprised.

"You're giving up on us?" Troy asks her just as in shock.

She laughs, "I am not giving up on you. I am telling you that you no longer have the need to visit me."

I frown, not understanding the meaning behind her words.

"You don't need me any longer. The therapy has paid off. You communicate. Ten months ago you would have thrown yourselves at one another, pushing the issue away and away until it hit you straight in your faces. You would have argued so badly that in the end one of you would have walked away. From the issue, the confrontation. You would have never talked the issue through. You would have come back, gulped it down and continue with your lives."

"The therapy is over then." Troy says, looking at her.

She nods, "We can still meet up once every two to three months if you want to, but I'd say you don't need me any more. You're doing exactly what you should be. Your marriage seems in a good place."

"I'm sad." I say out of the sudden. This woman has grown dear to my heart! "I mean, you witnessed big milestones in our lives and you helped us through so much..." In my mind, I count all the things she's been through with us: separation, my abuses, the shooting at New Years, the nightmares following the shooting, the depression that came after Adaline's birth, the kidnapping, the tough recovery process... the happiness we feel right now.

Dr. Wyatt tilts her head to the side, "I'm a little sad as well, to be honest."

My eyes look over to my husband. "I'm just glad you gave us the help we needed." he says to her, telling her in his way that he's maybe a little sad, too.

She smiles at Troy, "If you guys have any issues, don't hesitate to call me and we talk things through. Even over the phone if it's necessary."

I rise from the couch that I've started to love sitting on, still in shock. That woman helped me through a depression, she helped me through my trauma from the kidnapping... she helped me to talk about my feelings. I might have been against visiting a psychiatrist two years ago but now... Before I know it, I have wrapped my arms around Dr. Wyatt. "Thank you."

* * *

"I can't believe I'm getting married in two weeks..." I hear Miley's amazed voice before I watch her walking out of the changing room, wearing her wedding dress. It's a beautiful Vera Wang a-line cut white dress with an embellished band around her waist. She looks like a princess.

I smile as her eyes sparkle at me, "Time flies by so fast."

"Yes it does." she says before turning around to watch her reflection in the mirror. "I'll be Mrs. Miley Bolton. Sounds good, doesn't it?"

"Sounds perfect." I say as I watch the tailor walking in. A small woman with some big bright glasses. There's a measuring tape on her shoulders and she's holding a cushion with needles in it.

"Oh I think there's no more adjusting to be done. You look absolutely perfect!" her voice has an Italian accent and I smile.

Miley turns around and starts swinging from side to side, "It fits like a second skin."

I smile at her, "It sure does."

"A very pretty bride..." the tailor says with a smile before she walks away.

"How was your appointment?"

"It was our last." I say with a smile full of disbelief.

"What? Really?"

"Yes. I couldn't believe it either. But turns out we no longer need to learn how to communicate, because we already are communicating."

"But that's good, isn't it?"

I shrug, "Maybe. I mean yes, but I... I don't know. I kind of got used to her."

"Franklin?" Her face mirrors her shocked voice.

"What?"

"I think Franklin's here."

I feel a shiver going down my spine just by hearing his name. I gulp as I see Troy's father in the reflection, standing behind Miley. I turn around, seeing a man that doesn't belong in a bridal shop. The last time I saw this man was over six weeks ago. But he surely has recovered from his heart attack.

"Miley, you look wonderful." There's a dreamy smile on his lips for a second as if he remembers something just as beautiful.

"Thank you. But I'm sure you didn't come here just to tell how beautiful I look."

He clears his throat, putting on his poker face again. "Yes. Actually, I came here to see you, Gabriella."

I frown as our glances meet. His cool blue eyes don't scare me for the first time. "I am glad that you are feeling better, but I'm sure you don't really feel the need to talk to me. Everything has been said."

"Alright, I'm going to get out of this beauty while you guys talk. Actually talk." I watch Miley disappearing in the long thin hallway that leads to the changing rooms.

"Franklin, what do you want?" I ask him as I watch him walking over to me.

"I came here to apologize." He breathes out.

"What?!" I ask him, unsure if I understood him correctly. Two shocks in one day.

"I shouldn't have insulted you in the way I did and I apologize for treating you this way."

Is this for real?! I gulp, "What caused this change of mind?" It weren't his children, because Troy hasn't talked to him since the last time we saw him in the hospital. As for Lucas and Shailene...

"My recent health issues have given me insight of what really is important for life."

"And that's family?"

"Inner peace."

I bite my lip, I wasn't aware that I was interrupting his inner peace. "Well, I am glad you have found your inner peace then." Though, I'm sure his older son won't forgive him.

"I need you to accept my apology."

I gulp, "Franklin, I appreciate you for making your way into a bridal store to seek for my forgiveness, but I'm afraid you won't get what you truly want. You don't want my forgiveness. You don't need that for your inner peace. You need his." I tilt my head to the side.

His lips form a thin line, "I can't ask for his if I haven't asked for yours."

The way into his heart is through me. It's been this way ever since we met. "You don't have mine until you have his. We're a union. If you want him in your life, you have to want me in your life as well. And the same goes for our daughter."

"You really are like a virus that's infected everyone but me." He mumbles.

"Excuse me?!"

"You just need to snap your fingers and everyone dances to your pipe."

I place my hand on my hips, "If you really think that you shouldn't seek for anyone's forgiveness."

His lips form a thin line and I prepare myself for a fight. But to my surprise, he turns around and walks away without another word. I sigh as I feel my body relaxing.

"He's gone?" Miley asks me and I swing my head around. She's dressed in her usual clothes: a sleek dark navy dress and Manolo's in silver.

"Yes."

"What did he want?"

"He came to apologize and quickly realized that apologizing requires to feel sorry, which he isn't."

"So he left?"

I nod, "He left."

"But he made the effort to walk into a bridal shop!" she argues as a shopping assistant walks over to us, handing her the dress.

I shrug as I watch Miley drowning in the bag that has her wedding dress inside.

"Is there really no way you guys are ever going to make up? I mean, I've forgiven both Luc and you for what you did. So did Troy."

"Franklin's..." I sigh, it's hard to explain a man that's incomparable. "We think he might have had a thing with Victoria. You know, back in the days."

"No!" she breathes out shocked, "Who's we?"

"Troy and me. We're not sure yet, but it could have happened during the time Victoria was in New York so many times when I was a teenager. Before we moved from Florida to Manhattan."

"So you think this is why Franklin hates you?"

I shrug as I hold the door open for her, "Either that or this man has totally lost his mind."

"Have you asked him about Victoria?"

"When would I have the chance to? During the time he's insulting or yelling at me?"

"I guess you guys won't sit together at the reception then." she mumbles.

I let out a laughter, but stop as I realize she didn't joke. She really thought we would make up. I gulp, feeling stupid. "Miley, the situation between Troy, Franklin and me is by far more complicated than you could imagine. We might never get along."

She bites her lip, "Try telling that Shailene. Her bright blue eyes make you feel even more guilty than you feel right now."

I sigh, "It is what it is." I don't even try to explain the complicated cobweb that seems to connect us anyways.

* * *

I can hear Adaline's laughter as I pour hot water into two teacups. I place the electric water kettle back on it's place before I pick up both cups in each of my hands. With naked feet I walk around the kitchen island and through the dinning room, following the laughters of the loves of my life. I stop as I see my husband entertaining our daughter. He's wearing a simple black v-cut shirt and matching Armani briefs. He placed her on his bent legs. It's somewhere between two and three in the night, but she's far from being sleepy. She must've inherit her sleep schedule from her Daddy. He's just as awake. Adaline's squeak reaches my ears as Troy starts tickling her. I feel my heart beating heavily in my chest, almost bursting from the love I feel for these two humans.

I freeze in my movement as Adaline turns tilts her head to the side, her bright blue orbs focused on me. "Mommy!" she breathes out, her lips forming a smile.

I gulp the tears down. I'll never get used to that sound.

Troy's head swings to the side as well, his eyes surprised by me. "That is Mommy indeed." he agrees with her as his eyes dance down my body, "Who should be fast asleep. Just like you."

I hold up his cup of tea, "I made tea."

"You need sleep." he says as I make my way over to them.

"And let you throw that party all by yourself? No, not with me." I place the cups on the coffee table.

"I thought we were in this together. Division of work."

"Exactly. We're in this together. That's why we'll entertain her together if she wants us to." I look at our daughter, who laughs at me. I make a funny expression, causing her laughter to become bigger. "Together." I emphasize, before I brush through his hair.

His blue eyes lock with mine, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Lo-lo-lo-" Adaline's voice reaches my ears. She closes her mouth before her hands reach out to me, "I Lo-ve you." she breathes out.

I smile, once more amazed by her fast development. "We love you, too." Troy and me say out of one mouth. It's the first time she said it to us. It's word fifth she can pronounce. And it's her first sentence!

She yawns, before her bright blue orbs move from me to her father. She's almost six months old, yet she has never slept a night through. She stretches out her arms as another yawn escapes her lips. I hold my breath as I watch her fall asleep just as rapidly as she seems to be awake. She can go from one extreme to another. I look at Troy, whose eyes are focused on our daughter. He can switch from one extreme to another faster than I can react. He amazes me. She amazes me... They amaze me.

"Finally." he whispers before picking her up. I watch him getting up before he walks out of the living room, through the dinning room and up the staircase in the kitchen. I pick up my cup and take a sip of the calming lavender tea I made for both of us. The last few weeks have been especially exhausting for us. Lately, Adaline decided to rather stay up the nights then use them actually for sleep. It led to sleepless nights for mostly me, since I didn't want Troy's lack of sleep to reflect on his work. After all, I am the one who decided to stay home in the first year.

I pull the white oxford shirt tighter around my body and tuck my knees in. It's a chilly mid-summer night. Taking another sip of my tea, I stare at my reflection in the glass facade. The last couple of days have been sunny in England and I caught some sun in the hours I spent in the garden with Adaline. Although we stayed in the shadow, I managed to catch some sun anyways as I was running around the whole day.

I brush through my hair as my eyes see my husband walking over to me in the reflection. I tilt my head to the side, watching him getting seated next to me. "We didn't want to wake you." he says, pulling my into his arms.

I rest my head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat. It has the same rhythm as mine. "You didn't wake me. I was awake anyway... Besides, I'm not letting you do this alone." I place my cup on the coffee table before his left hand laces with mine.

"You've been doing this the last six months. I want to take a bit of work of off your shoulders. At least the nights..."

"Between taking care of our daughter and your wife, when exactly do you plan to sleep then? You need your sleep more than I do right now. You have to function in the day, after all you make some really big decisions."

With his free hand, he brushes through my hair. "We're in this together as you said earlier. I might work during the day, most of the week, but that doesn't mean I am too tired to take care of our daughter. She's more important than work or sleep. She's the most important person in my life - just like her mother. And in the last weeks her mother got just not enough sleep. How much sleep did you get per night? Three to four hours?!"

I gulp, "About three per night, yes." I admit.

"See? You need seven hours at least. Let me help you. You know that I can easily go through my day with just four or five hours of sleep."

I sigh, "Good, though I hope she might finally have her first night in which she sleeps through."

He chuckles, "Did you see her earlier? It took me two hours for her to fall asleep again. She has no doubt my energy levels!"

I pull our laced hands and kiss the back of his hand, "She has a lot from you."

"I can also see a lot from her mother in her." he smiles at me.

* * *

 **A new chapter. Please review!**

 **Xoxo**


	18. Chapter 18

His smell fills my nostrils before I feel his lips touching mine. A mixture of shower gel and the typical Troy Bolton smell awakes my senses so easily. Returning his kiss, I open my eyes.

"Good morning, Mrs. Bolton." his voices rings deep in my bones while filling my heart with pure joy. He's already dressed in his usual three piece suit: dark blue vest and trousers with a white oxford shirt. His jacket is, as always, laying on the back of one of the two arm chairs across the fireplace in our bedroom.

I smile before I brush through his hair. It's still damp. "Morning, Mr. Bolton."

He returns my smile, getting evenly lost in my eyes. Every day I get to wake up to this view...

His fingers fondle my cheek and he lets his thumb run over my lower lip. I love him not less than he loves me.

"What time is it?" I can't seem to find the strength to look away from his bright blue orbs. I let my hand slowly move down his head, his neck, his shoulders, his chest... I bite my lip. God, what perfection...

He inhales sharply, "Seven thirty."

I frown, he's usually out the door at this time. "And you're still here?"

"Going in a bit later and coming home a lot sooner today." his lips form an irresistible grin. "Because I've got a lot of plans for you and me tonight."

"Is Adaline still asleep?" I ask yawning. I only had to get up four times tonight. Given the last weeks, this night was almost relaxing.

He nods, "I changed her diaper about an hour ago." his eyes move away from mine and stop at the baby monitor that's standing on the nightstand next to my side of the bed. I follow his glance and smile as I see our baby girl fast asleep. Seeing his left hand resting on my thighs, I place mine on his. "How much later did you plan to go to work today?" I might as well make the best out of the morning hours Adaline decided to give her parents today.

His head swings around, his ears not missing the undertone in my voice once. He laces his hand with mine, his lips kissing my knuckles. I pout, knowing his answer before his lips form the words.

"Hold on to that hunger until I come home. You won't regret it." he promises me. He's proroguing.

"You've never said no before." I think out loud. I feel rejected and I think my voice is not able to hide that.

His lips form a thin line and I can see he understands me as he always does. "I can fuck you now, but pair that with my plans for later and you won't be able to walk for the rest of the week." he breathes out.

I can't help but grin, "Really?" Suddenly, my mood has lifted.

He nods, "I think you'll enjoy what I have in mind for us."

"Who's going to take care of Adaline?"

"Ryan and Kelsi. They'll sleep in one of our guest rooms."

"We won't sleep at home tonight?"

He shrugs, "We might be gone the whole night..."

I feel excitement rushing through my veins, "Really?"

"Yes." he says before kissing me softly, "But that's all you're going to get out of me."

A grin appears on my lips.

"Oh and your outfits. You'll wear those." he nods in the direction of our fireplace and I twist around. His dark blue jacket is laying on the back of one armchair, while the other's back is covered by a red dress. A new red dress. It has a deep v-cut and is fitted. There are black Lance Marc Jacobs heels. Also new. On the dress lays black laced underwear: a bra, panties and straps.

I gulp, "I only see one outfit." I breathe out.

"I have to pick up the second one on my way back home a bit later. There were some sizing issues. I just hope the weather won't change."

I frown, sizing issues? Weather changes? What are his plans? "When will you come home?"

"I should be home at around three. I'll bring you your outfit and lunch. Okay?"

I nod, "Okay."

"But that's really all you're going to get out of me." he smiles. He seems just as excited as me.

"Do I have to do anything?"

He thinks for a moment, "Don't go running or see Krimov today. I don't think that would be a smart choice..."

"What about yoga? Am I allowed to do that?" He is confusing me.

He grins, "Yes, you'll need your flexibility."

I roll my eyes, unable to not reflect his grin. "I love you, Troy Bolton."

"Oh you'll love me even more after tonight, because you'll cross one thing off of your bucket list when this day is over." he kisses me quickly as he realizes that something did slip off of his lips.

* * *

I go through emails in the living room, having one eye on the screen and the other on my playing daughter. She's sitting on the carpet, playing with wooden animals. While working from home has it's advantages, I do miss my studio. Ever since the photos in Forbes magazine, the media has bee n going nuts. I've had tons of requests for another interview, another photoshoot or a 'day in the life of Gabriella Montez'-type of thing. The center of my life is my daughter and my husband. They already saw enough of my husband. I don't want Adaline to be in the focus as well. She should grow up just as normal as possible. I've been responding to about three hundred emails in the last hours. Just as I press the send button, I hear the front door unlocking. I take a look at the clock, it's only half past two. He's even earlier than he told me! Smiling, I look at Adaline whose eyes are resting on me. "Daddy's home."

She squeaks in response, bouncing up and down. She lets the wooden elephant fall on the floor before I bent down to pick her up. "I think we should greet him, shouldn't we?"

She squeaks again as we walk through the open living area. I stop at the round table on which a vase with white peonies is standing on. Adaline's fingers grab on the rose petals. There's a bag from Benares in Mayfair and a black dusting bag laying on the table as well.

"Welcome home, daddy." My smile drops as I see him closing his umbrella. It's raining. I've been working in the last few hours and I didn't even notice the rain hitting the windows in the living room. "It's raining." I point out. I think that means whatever his plan was, it is now ruined.

"Yes." he growls as he gets out of the coat, that's dripping. "It's freaking August and it's fucking raining." he sounds just as disappointed as me.

"Does this mean your plan is ruined?" I ask him as he hangs the coat on a hanger.

"Maybe not. I checked the weather at our destination. There shouldn't be any rain." he mumbles. As he turns around, his eyes see Adaline, whose blue eyes look up. She starts squeaking, waving with her arms and smiling as soon as she sees her father. He holds out his arms and I hand her over. As he kisses both of her cheeks, I feel my heart nearly bursting with love for them. "I missed you, too, my sunshine."

She chuckles as her fingers find his nose, "Daddy."

His eyes sparkle with the same joy they always do when he sees her. His bright blue orbs find mine and I watch a turquoise marble appearing in his orbs. I catch myself holding my breath, feeling the heat between us rising. Adaline turns around, her eyes focussing on something behind Troy. His lips find mine and although this kiss is quick, it doesn't lack passion.

"Hi..." I trail off, still feeling his lips on mine.

He smiles, "I missed you."

Returning his smile, I brush through his hair. "We missed you, too."

"I brought Indian food."

"And my outfit." I turn around and glance at the black dusting bag.

"Yes." his voice is filled with the same excitement that's rushing through my veins. "Go ahead, open it."

My fingers open the zipper of the black dusting bag and I can't help but let out a scream of excitement, "We'll go horseback riding?!" My eyes stare at beige colored horseback riding trousers, a blue chambray shirt, black riding shoes and an olive colored vest. I can't believe we're going horseback riding! I've been wanting to do that for ages! It's been on my bucket list for ages! I can't believe it! My bucket list... I look up with a grin on my lips. "You are amazing."

He returns my grin, before looking at Adaline whose attention my little scream caught. "You hear that, Della? I am amazing."

She chuckles as he tickles her.

"Okay, I have to get dressed. When do we head out? When will Ryan and Kelsi arrive?" I feel just as happy as Adaline.

He chuckles, "They're going to be here in about thirty minutes. Get dressed while I set everything up for lunch."

I pick up the dusting bag and place a kiss on his cheek, "I love you, Troy Bolton." I sing before rushing by.

"We love you, too. Don't we?" Adaline's laughter fills my ears as I rush up the staircase in the foyer.

* * *

I look at my reflection, moving from side to side. I'm wearing the riding outfit that Troy bought for me. The trousers are so comfortable. And the vest looks so good. He also chose the colors very well. I look like a freaking horsewoman! I pull the ponytail tighter. I can't believe we're going horseback riding! I rush out of the bedroom and hear Ryan's and Kelsi's laughter filling the hallway on the first floor. I grin as I imagine Ryan's reaction in a few seconds. He might be laughing even harder when he sees me. Taking a deep breath in, I quickly walk down the steps that lead into the kitchen.

"Wow, Gabi you look..." he closes his lips, trying to stop himself from bursting out of laughter.

"really professional." Kelsi adds, giving Ryan a look.

"I agree." unlike Ryan, my husband's smile is filled with pride.

I roll my eyes, "You can laugh all you want, Ry. Because I can tick a thing off of my bucket list today." I stick out my tongue.

He bites his lip, shaking his head. "It's just... I've never seen you this way."

"Because I've never spent the summer in the Hamptons where you guys all went horseback riding. I've been wanting to do this for ages!"

"Then you should have gotten off of your high horse." Laughter bursts out of his lungs.

I can't help but laugh along. "My husband's fulfilling one of my childhood dreams today. When did Kelsi do that the last time?"

"Last night." she mumbles.

"I was talking about childhood dreams not sex fantasies." I roll my eyes. Really and my brother thinks I am a sex-addict.

"You look beautiful." his whisper reaches my ears, awakening my desire for him.

I blush, "Let's eat."

* * *

I am about to press the call button as his hand takes my cellphone out of my hands. "No more calling."

"But-"

"You already called Ryan four times in two and a half hours. You missed the whole ride here." He points out as his eyes are focused on the road ahead of him. My second outfit is in the trunk and I have no idea when I will have the opportunity to wear it, but as I know my husband he already has something planned. "We're here in Dover about to go horseback riding not to constantly call home. Adaline is fine. Trust them."

"I do, but-"

"No buts. No more calling." He lets the photo glide into the side compartment of his door. "Enjoy the view of Dover."

"I do it's just the first time we leave Adaline home alone."

"She has Ryan and Kelsi."

"Aren't you worried at all?"

"As long as my mother won't show up I am as calm as the sea can be."

I roll my eyes, "Well, I am worried."

"You shouldn't be."

I look out of the window for the first time since we drove off of the Motorway and see the landscapes that surround Dover. It's a beautiful city at the coast and the perfect destination to horseback ride. "Why can't I wear a simple pair of jeans and a shirt like you do?" I feel a little overdressed compared to him.

"Because on your bucket list it said - and let me quote you - 'Horseback riding at the beach while looking super sexy in one of these horseback riding outfits'. I think I nailed the beach with the destination as well as the sexiness with your underwear." he smirks.

I return his smirk, "You did indeed. I can't believe you remember us talking about this. It must've been years ago!"

He shrugs, "You mentioned it during our fourth conversation over the phone back in Manhattan. Over two years ago. It was one of those in which we talked the whole night." he puts on the left blinker and changes the gear.

I place my hand on the gear change, "I enjoyed those nights not less than you did."

He drives us on a gravel road, "Hearing your voice before I went to bed was the best of my days."

"Of mine as well." I smile as we drive through the bumpy road. "But the lack of sleep made it hard for me to go to work the next day."

He chuckles, "Yes, I had to have too many coffees as well."

I see horse stables on the left, but most of the horses are outside on the grass. We've driven away from the rain and I hope it won't catch up on us while we're horseback riding. We're close to reaching our destination.

"But the lack of sleep then compared to the lack of sleep now you're experiencing is nothing." he points out as we stop at a big white wooden house. There are people dressed like me walking around. Horses are taken back to the barns or out of them. It's so beautiful to see these big creatures! He parks the black Porsche Cayenne next to the many Range Rover Sports. This is definitely not some touristy place. As always, my husband has chosen something more high-class.

"Ready to fulfill one of your wishes?" he asks me as he pulls the car out of the engine lock.

I grin, "Yes."

We get out of the car and I hold my hand out, "My phone."

"That will stay in the car. Along with mine." he smiles.

"You are just afraid I'll call home one more." I roll my eyes.

"As soon as you get your phone back, you'll call home. I can see the urge in your eyes." he smirks before pulling me closer to him. I inhale his smell, feeling safe and beautiful. "Enjoy this day with mine."

I look up into his bright blue orbs and brush through his hair, "I enjoy every second I get to spend with you."

"Good." he smiles.

"Good." I echo.

"Mr. and Mrs. Bolton!" I hear someone calling us and I turn around. I see a red-haired woman about my age rushing over to me. She's wearing more or less the same clothes as me. Only in a dark navy color. Her red locks are flowing in the wind and I am thankful for my ponytail otherwise my hair would be just as wild. Dover is by far more windy than London and although it is summer, I am glad for the vest over my shirt. "Welcome to Garland Stables!" she greets us as she stops across us. "I'm Christy, you're instructor for today." her dark brown eyes dance down my husband. I feel my husband squeezing my hand as if he's reading my mind. "Well, follow me to the horses. I picked out two very nice horses." she starts walking and we follow her holding hands. "Have any of you been horseback riding?" she asks us as we walk over to the barns.

"I've been horseback riding since I'm six. Just the last couple of years have been..." he stops as his eyes stare at mine.

I gulp, "full of love." I add in a whisper with a smile.

"What about you, Mrs. Bolton?"

"No, I've never been. But it's something I have been wanting to for a long time." I say as we walk into the barn. The smell of horses and hay fills my nostrils. I love it here!

"Okay," she says, stopping between two horses in their stables. One is grey and the other one is chestnut colored. Both horses have already been saddled up. "Napoleon is for you, Mr. Bolton. He can be a little stubborn but I don't think you'll have problems managing him."

I grin as my husband looks at the grey colored horse. Napoleon will be tamed in a blink of an eye!

"And Kit Kat here is for you, Mrs. Bolton. She's a very calm horse and therefore perfect for beginners." I look at the chestnut colored horse. Kit Kat snuffles back at me. I nod, we'll surely get along. If not, I have Troy by my side. I strike the horse's head, "Good."

Christy hands us each a black helmet, "Great!"

I let my hair out of the ponytail, I completely forgot about the helmet! I put the helmet on and secure it before looking at Troy. Even with a freaking helmet, he still takes my breath away. I feel my heart skipping a beat as Christy opens the stables to get out the two horses. I stroke Kit Kat's neck as she's across me. Such a big horse! I gulp, maybe I am not ready to start horseback riding anyway.

"Okay, left foot into the stirrup and then swing up." Christy instructs me. I frown before I follow her words. I place my left foot into the stirrup, hold on the rein and lift myself up until I sit on the saddle. Wow I am so high! "Very well." she says smiling at me while I am still amazed by the view. This is so cool! I look over to my left, my husband is already safe and sound on Napoleon.

"Good, I'll bring you both out." she explains before the horses start walking. This feels so wobbly, but it's so cool! We walk out of the barn and stop in front of many trails leading into different directions. "Remember to slacken and tighten the reins to increase or decrease speed. And keep an athletic position." she looks up at me, "But I think you'll be fine with your husband."

I look up at him, "I think so, too." With him I feel safe and sound.

"Which trail leads to the white cliffs?" Troy asks.

"That one. You'll reach them in about five miles. It's a very beautiful trail to horseback ride at." Christy points out to the right. "Enjoy your ride!"

Troy's horse starts walking ahead, very slowly. I tighten the reins and slightly push with my boots against the horse's behind. Kit Kat slowly starts walking. We're doing quite well so far!

* * *

The wind clashes against my face as we ride along the white cliffs of Dover. The sea is crashing against the cliffs to my left and the sea gulls are floating through the cloudy sky. We've left the tourists all behind us a few miles ago. There's no one here but us and the nature. It's a beautiful day, although the sun has disappeared a few minutes ago. Dark clouds are covering the sky, but my husband doesn't look less beautiful in that kind of lightning. He looks mysteriously, nevertheless he is just as full of endorphins as me. We enjoy horseback riding equally as much. Troy is a little ahead of me with Napoleon, but Kit Kat and me are doing quite well. My husband is, as expected, the best teacher I could have asked for. Horseback riding is easy, yet I now know why they sell horseback riding trousers. With regular trousers, I would have two holes at my inner thighs by now. Riding through the sand and on the cliffs is the perfect activity and I still catch myself not believing that I really am sitting on a horse. I smile, I just have the best husband in the world!

Suddenly, thunder appears and I look up at the sky. It looks like the rain from London caught up with us anyway. I tighten the reins to make Kit Kat a little slower. We're on the cliffs with no where to hide from the rain. If we don't find anything soon, we'll get soaking wet or worse get stroke by lightning. I see Troy turning around and riding back to me.

"It's going to start to rain soon." I breathe out. We're about an hour and a half away from the Garland Stables.

"Yes."

"We have to find a place to hide from the rain." I gulp. I have no idea how to deal with a scared horse.

His eyes scan the area and they stop at the forest starting a few miles away from the cliffs. "Follow me." he says before riding away with a faster speed. I follow him, being now quite comfortable with a faster speed. As we ride away from the cliffs, I feel the rain drops clashing against me. I follow the grey horse with my husband on it into the forest just as it really starts raining. The many trees form an umbrella that's dense enough to keep most of the rain away as we ride through it. It would look beautiful with sunshine. I hear thunder before it starts raining cats and dogs. There are fields of grasses with fences in the middle of forest. There must be stables for the horses somewhere, too. It looks so lost and lonely here. Suddenly, I notice a wooden barn in the middle of the forest on the horizon. But there are no horses to be heard. I follow Troy into the direction. After a few miles we've reached the barn. It's an abandoned barn. What used to be stables is now empty and lonely. He gets off of his horse as I reach him. He knots the reins around a fence.

"Stay here." his voice is strict as he walks into the barn.

I roll my eyes, "No one is here." I start arguing as I get off of Kit Kat. Kit Kat seems not scared at all about the rain and thunder. I strike her head, "You really are a calm horse, aren't you?" Kit Kat nods at me and I smile. The raindrops are running down my body. I am soaking wet.

"You're right. No one is in here." His voice echoes through the empty barn.

"More often than not, I actually am right." I mumble as I unknot the reins of Napoleon. Taking the reins of both horses, I open the door of the barn a bit further before I walk in with them behind me. Lightning strikes as we stop in the barn. There are still empty stables and hay. I place each horse in one stable before having a proper look around. There's a sign saying Shepherds Farm, horseback riding since 1854. The electricity is still running so it must've been not too long since Shepherds Farm closed down. It's so sad that a place like this had to shut down. It must have been beautiful to ride horses here in the forest.

"We'll stay here until the rain has calmed down." Troy's words echo through the barn as he walks back to me. He has taken his helmet off, carrying it loosely in his hands. He doesn't look wet at all.

Summer thunderstorms are loud, harsh and quickly over. I hope this one will be one of them too. I don't want to spend the whole night here. "I am just glad the horses are doing fine." I look over to them. Both have decided to lay down and take a break. They've been running around for quite a while now anyway. I take off my helmet and shake my locks which have stacked together. I feel cold and wet. "But one of us should have brought a phone. We should get in touch with Garland Stables." I open the vest and place it next to the helmet on a stack of hay.

"We are stuck until the rain stops." His eyes stop at me. I am well aware of the blue chambray shirt that's now see through and sticking to my body. I feel my lungs loosing air the second he throws his helmet on mine. Within a second I feel his lips crashing against mine, his tongue eagerly dancing with mine. I burry my hands in his hair, that's unlike mine not wet. I feel his warm hands on my soaking wet upper body. Even though I wore a vest, it didn't really help with the heavy rain. His fingers start unbuttoning my blue chambray shirt. Slowly, he peels the wet fabric off of my body. He lets go of off my lips as he strips the fabric down my arms. I try to catch my breath, feeling my pulse rising. I let my fingers travel beneath his black shirt, feeling his warm muscular upper body. His lips kiss my neck as my fingers gather the fabric of his shirt. His breath is warm and full of desire. Moans escapes my lips as his lips find my erogenous zones. As he lets go, I help him out of his shirt. My eyes dance down his upper body and I am as always amazed by the view. His muscles look like they're made out of steel, shaping his body beautifully. That's the result of his daily long distance runs and weight lifting. Such a breathtaking, breathtaking result...

Suddenly, his hands on my hips twist me around. I see his silhouette in the lights against the wooden wall of the barn. I feel his fingers stripping down my trousers and panties in one movement as far down as possible.

"I'll take you from behind, Mrs. Bolton." His dark erotic voice informs me. His hand grabs my wrists before placing them above my head in front of me. With his foot, he spreads my legs open. Thank god, I am not wearing boots! I cry out as I feel him thrusting into me. God, this feels so good! Moans start escaping my mouth as he starts fucking me in his very own speed, giving us both the pleasure we need so badly. Quickly, I feel the orgasm building deep inside of me. I feel his lips on the nape of my neck, kissing me. The coldness I felt from the rain has completely disappeared. I feel as hot as volcano that's about to burst. Suddenly he stops and I feel his fingertips traveling down my back.

"God, you're so beautiful..." his voice is a whisper.

I feel his fingertips traveling up my spine again. He is driving me insane! His movement echoes in my sex, "Troy, please..." I breathe out shallowly.

I can hear his breath in my ear before I feel his lips on my right cheek. I expect him to say something but to my surprise he starts moving again. Quicker. Harder. Than before.

I tilt my head back as a I feel the orgasm bursting inside of me so unexpectedly. I feel him thrusting into me a few more times before he comes in a loud growl, releasing his tension as well. I feel his body warmth against my back as a I still try to catch my breath. His fingers release my wrists and I place my left hand on his shoulder as he is still trying to catch his breath as well. I enjoy feeling him close to me so I listen to his breath a few more seconds. He laces his fingers with mine that are still resting in his shoulder before he exits me. He twists me around, holding on to our laced hands. His orbs have a dark turquoise colour that amaze me. We stare into each other's eyes, allowing us to get lost in this moment of union.

He kisses my knuckles of our laced fingers, "Looks like I get to strike a point off of my bucket list as well." His dirty grin tells me everything.

I chuckle, "I'll make sure you'll cross off every point." I promise him.

He tilts his head to the side, "Finding you was the best that's ever happened to me."

With my free hand, I brush through his hair. "Ditto, Mr. Bolton."

* * *

"Where are we?" I say as the car drives up to a manor house in the English country side. After the horseback riding, we checked into a hotel at the white cliffs with a beautiful view. The suit is beyond amazing, but I didn't have enough time to fully acknowledge it. We only checked in to change into our evening attire. Sleep is something that's not on our list for today. So far, the day has been just perfect! The manor house is huge and shining brightly in the sunset. There are vineyards and fields surrounding the manor. It looks so beautiful.

My husband's bright blue orbs look at me. His fingers brush through my hair. "This is a change of scenery." he promises me as his thumb brushes my lips.

I feel my body responding to his touch. It was so hard to not throw myself at him during dinner. He looks beyond sexy in that black Armani suit. "Is this another hotel? Are we going to a gala?" I ask, although I don't see any name on the house as the car stops. But my dress would fit any formal event.

He shakes his head, "No. But it has something to do with what you're wearing beneath the Valentino." his fingers tips travel down my cleavage. My breath quickens, my body starts filling with anticipation.

"I'll do anything you want." I say, biting my lip.

"Tonight's not about me." he says, withdrawing his fingers. "It's about you." he reaches into the black bag that's in front of us. I've been wondering what's in it. The whole evening has been a surprise. From the sunset dinner at the beach to driving into the vineyards. He gets out two black boxes before opening one. I expect to see jewelry, but I don't. Instead there's a beautiful red lace venetian mask placed on the velvet of the box. It's absolutely stunning and matches my dress perfectly.

"Are we going to a masquerade ball?" I ask him confused as his fingers place the mask on my face. Quickly, he ties the silk ribbon behind my head. The mask is light and I feel mysterious. This evening is getting better and better. So far a change of scenery is good!

He opens the other box and gets out a black sleek mask for himself. Just like mine, it only covers a third of his face. "We're not going to a masquerade ball." he says as he ties the mask behind his head. "I mean, this event is not made for dancing the night away. There are other activities…" he whispers into my ear before he gets out of the car. I follow him and take his hand as we enter the manor house. I can hear lustful cries filling my ears right away. This is not a house to dance at all. Suddenly, I now why we ordered a driver instead of driving himself. This will be an evening with lots of champagne.

"This is a sex party." I say and stop in the hallway. He has brought me to a sex party. Why did he do that? Does he think I'm into this? Does he think I need this? I need him. Him only.

"Yes." he says, his bright blue orbs finding mine.

 _Tonight is not about me. It's about you._ His voice is ringing in my ear. "I don't think you're ready for this." I say to him. This is by all means a change of scenery. I expected everything… but not this.

His fingers brush through my hair, "Do you want to go?"

I gulp, feeling my skin responding to his touch as I hear another lustful moan echoing through the house. I'm not sure if I like this. I can't believe he brought me to a sex party… the last time… the last time I was at one, I fucked with his brother. I fucked Lucas. _I need to erase that memory out of your mind and I don't care what it takes._ I remember my husband's words he once said to me. I didn't understand it then, but I do surely now. This is not about me at all. It's about him. About us. He wants a rewind with a different party for me this time, but he won't get it. This will never be what I once experienced. His actions, his words… it all lead to this. He needs this.

More than me. "No." I decide. "But next time you plan something anywhere near this, inform me."

"Deal." he says to my surprise before lacing his fingers with mine.

I don't think he's going to enjoy this. My husband is a very private person and this… this is anything but that. We walk into the ball room seeing lots of couples chatting and dancing. About twenty five couples in elegant clothes all wearing masks. They're holding champagne glasses and I grab two from the tablet as a waiter walks pass us. I hand one glass to my husband, "Drink." I say to him. Alcohol will calm him down. I take a sip of the champagne as well, letting the liquid glide down my throat. I don't know what to expect. I don't know how to react… Everyone seems to have a good time, while I am still a bit stressed. The room is decorated elegantly, yet this is nothing like last time. There're no vases with condoms, no flowers… it's different. Yet it feels the same. Suddenly, a blonde with a floor length black gown walks over to us. She's wearing a black mask, her dark brown eyes looking at my husband. He's the center of everyone's attention - masked or not. "Good evening." she greets us, her eyes noticing our laced hands and wedding bands. "Mind another party?" she asks us, playing with a strand of hair. She wants my husband. Everyone wants my husband.

* * *

"Yes. We're exclusive." my husband answers for me, his bright blue eyes looking at me. A clear sign. We're in this together.

"Too bad. Have a nice time then." she says before leaving us alone. I feel weight falling off of my chest. He doesn't do sharing. Of course my husband doesn't share, but then why are we here? Why has he brought me here? To be seen? I don't get it and that confusion makes me nervous. I drink the rest of the champagne in one gulp. Alcohol won't make me see clearer, but it will make me feel less nervous.

"I've seen enough." he says taking my glass before placing both of them on the mantelpiece. He takes my hand and leads me through the room. I'm well aware of the looks we get, both males and females have noticed us. We might have been here for less than five minutes, but my husband always leaves an impression. We walk into another room with parquet floor as well. The light is dimmed and there are cushions on the floor, but the room is empty. It should be filled with lustful moans, couples having sex. That's what it looked like the last time. But this is not like last time. This is different.

"Troy," I say, using the empty room for our advantage. I need to clear the air between us. I'm afraid we'll make a mistake by going through this.

He stops in his movement, turning around to face me. "I want this too." he promises me, his blue eyes full of truth.

"Okay…" I trail off, feeling better now.

"Okay." he agrees with me before opening another door. People are gathered in this room. Some women wear lace underwear while other's are still in their gowns. All men wear suits. They are standing at the walls, watching what's happening in the center. The room is held in a dark blue. A smell of plastic is lingering in the air, paired with an aroused feminine cry that fills the room. I can see quilted equipment hanging at the wall: there are handcuffs, floggers in different sizes and other things I don't know the name of. All in black. It's a whole different vibe. Some of the tools we own ourselves, yet this looks nothing like the room we have at home. It's the opposite: it looks and smells poorly, I feel unease standing in this room. So, that's what BDSM is like on the other end of the latter...

Yet for the first time since we're here I feel aroused as my mind starts connecting what I see to what we have at home. So many possibilities... My eyes stop at the centre, that's got everyone's attention. I can see a woman dressed in a black laced underwear and heels. She has blonde long hair that's covering her boobs and is wearing a laced mask to hide herself. Her hands are stretched to the ceiling, her wrists connected to the gutter with handcuffs. There's a choker around her neck. She looks mesmerizing, beautiful. There's wax sticking to her skin. Drops cover her nipples, her belly button and her mons. Fire... she likes to play with fire. I don't know who did this to her, but she clearly wanted it. Her legs are wider than hips apart and wetness is floating down her thighs. This positions shows that the string is open in the crotch. She must've come so many times already, just by hanging there and enjoying what's been done to her. There are straps around her neck that are connected to her bra. The same straps are around her stomach. She looks tamed. She looks irresistible.

I look at my husband, seeing him staring at the scene as fascinated as me. But he's not aroused. He doesn't feel attracted to the woman. I'm glad and feel stupid as I realize that I don't trust his words. He told me that I am the only woman in his life. Yet it feels good to see proof. Suddenly, I hear a man walking over to her and I turn my head around. He's wearing ripped jeans that are hanging loosely on his hips. He's not wearing briefs and is aroused. His upper body is toned and tanned, his black hair glossy. He is holding a flogger in his hand. He stops on his way to the woman, noticing us staring at him. His grey eyes stare into mine and I feel my lungs losing air. My cheeks flush as I feel embarrassed for staring at them shamelessly. But then again, others stare at them too. They want to be seen. Damn it, he has some mesmerizing eyes. Out of the sudden, his hand lets go of the flogger and it falls to the floor. He wants me, I can tell by the fire in his eyes. He needs me. As he starts taking steps into my direction, I feel my husband's grip on my hand tightening. I can feel his body getting stiff as jealously starts floating through his veins. He doesn't do sharing. He never will. The man with the glossy black hair and grey eyes notices the change right away, understanding the message. No sharing. We're exclusive. He turns around, picks up the flogger and starts letting the leather clash against the woman's sex. She cries out, bitting her lip as her eyes find mine. She wouldn't mind sharing him with me. He hits her again, this time harder and she cries out even louder. It looks like he's doing it out of frustration because he can't have me. I don't dare to take a look at my husband, so I just stand next to him, watching them. The woman's body is fire red and I can see the marks of the flogger. He hits her hard and she enjoys it. She needs it hard. The man walks around her and let's the flogger clash against her butt before it hits her sex again. Her body bulges up and I get ready to watch her orgasm, but she doesn't. Because he doesn't allow her to. She's his submissive. He's her dominate. And they like to be watched. The flogger falls to the floor again and I watch the man unbuttoning his jeans. Now, he wants to take her. After god knows how long. He steps out of his jeans and kicks them away before his hands grab the hips of the woman. Surprised by his touch, the woman moans. Her eyes find mine again, her lips forming a big O as he takes her from behind. She sees me as he starts moving. I look at my husband, his eyes finding mine. He is not aroused. He's here for research I realize as his eyes sparkle into mine. I nod, I'm up for this too. I want this with him. Not as hard and not with a flogger - and definitely not with wax and fire - but I'm up for the idea. Ever since we talked our sexual development through, I am not afraid of any direction our sex life might take. Because I have him beside me. We're in this together - as we've always been.

Without a word we walk away from the moaning couple. I can hear her coming as the door closes behind me. We're in a long hallway. Now, I know why he said he wanted this too. But unlike the couple in the room, he likes it private. He doesn't like to be watched. He doesn't need everyone's eyes on him. He needs me. Me only. I feel my sex pulsing as we walk down the hallway. I need him. I need him so badly. I look at him. I can't believe we're doing this. Together.

Suddenly, I feel his kiss crashing on mine. My body is pressed against the wall as our tongues battle. He kisses me harshly, his teeth bitting on my lower lip as his hands move up my legs before he picks me up. I feel his erection against my body, the warmth of it through the fabric of the dress I'm wearing. My sex responds to his needs as my lips kiss his neck. His smell starts filling my nostrils as I hear him opening another door. He walks in with me still wrapped around his body before his legs kick the door close. I don't know where we are, but I hope we're finally going to have some sex now. The sex at the abandoned barn was not enough to fulfill my hunger. I need him inside of me. I need his lips on me. His fingers on my skin… his tongue dancing with mine. I feel my feet on steady ground as he puts me down. His hands open the zipper of my dress before it glides down my body, revealing what's beneath. I'm wearing black laced underwear. My bra is pushing up my breasts, but not covering my nipples and my string is open at the crotch. I'm wearing stockings. He loves stocking and heels. My breath quickens as my hands open the trousers of my husband. I need this to be quick. I can't wait until we're both fully undressed. I rip his trousers and briefs down in one movement and he steps out of them revealing his huge pulsing erection. My sex pulses in anticipation. God this part of him is so precious, so beautiful… His fingertips lift my chin up, so my eyes move up his body until they meet his. His mask might be covering a third of his face, but I'll always know who he is. His fingers open the bow of my mask before taking it off. His thumb fondle my cheek before his lips kiss me softly. He wants to take it slow. He lets go of my lips and I open the bow of his mask, letting it fall to the floor as well. His beautiful face looks at me and I feel my heart skipping a beat. I love him immensely. His thumb runs over my lower lip and I feel my lungs losing air. "How do you want me to fuck you?" his voice is deep and erotic. It gives me the kind of feelings only he is able to make me feel. It's beyond arousal and anticipation. It's more. As it has always been with him.

I brush through his hair, he's giving me the control. "I'm giving myself to you. You can do whatever you want with me. Any time. Any position. Any place." I say into his eyes, voicing my wish. "I am your's."

His eyes glitter and a purr escapes his lungs as he understands the message, "This night was meant for you."

I shake my head, "I want this every night. I don't need to have control of this, but you do. I've seen it. You were fascinated by what we saw earlier. Not because of the practices or the people watching, it was because of the control. You need control. And I need to give up mine. So take me. Control me. I am your's." I promise him, brushing through his hair. "You need me. You want me. You have me. From the first time I saw you. My heart beats for you, my body aches for you and my souls is bound to your's."

He places his hand on mine, "I thought you wanted this."

I smile and lace my fingers with his, "You wanted this. You needed this to understand why I did what I did. You needed this to understand why you do what you do. And I needed this to prove that none of this matters to me. What matters is you."

He kisses my knuckles, "You are the best that's happened to me."

"What now, Mr. Bolton?" I ask him with a smile on my lips.

He unlaces his fingers from mine before he starts opening his oxford shirt, "Now, I'm going to fuck you in the shower before I get you all clean again. Then we're going to leave this place and I'll fuck you so hard in that hotel suit that you won't be able to walk tomorrow."

I grin, "That sounds like a plan I'll enjoy."

He gets out of the shirt before opening the hooks of my bra. It falls right off. "Oh you won't just enjoy it. You'll beg for it." he promises me as his fingers hook in my string. He helps me out of the string before his hands quickly stripe down the stockings. I kick off the shoes, being now a lot smaller than my husband. Taking his offered hand we walk into the bathroom next door. It's marbled and has a double glass doored shower. He opens the door for me and I step in. We haven't had sex in a shower for a while now. He turns on the water, letting the steam fill the shower.

"Troy," I say as he turns around. He walks over to me and I can see his bright blue eyes shining through the steam.

"Yes?" he asks, stopping across me.

I wrap my arms around his neck, feeling his pulsing erection against my stomach. "I love you." I say before I kiss him. He returns my kiss and I feel his hands gliding down my body. My muscles vibrate from his touch like they always do. He picks up my legs, spreading them before I feel him thrusting into me. My back crashes against the glass wall so hard that I think it might break. I feel the steam moisturizing my skin as my insides adjust to his size. He feels hot and I let go of his lips. His eyes look at me, his hair getting wet slowly. I brush through them, having the feeling of silk touching my fingers. He flexes his hip and I feel him moving out slowly. Every single inch of me craves him as I feel the tip of his penis brushing my sex. My hands move down his back and I dig my fingertips into him as I feel him thrusting into me again. A loud moan escapes my lungs as my orgasm starts building rapidly. His lips brush the nape of my neck before he moves out as I stare into his eyes. My nails move down his body and I squeeze his butt as he thrusts into me. I come in a loud moan and feel my body shaking as the orgasm flows through me. A few seconds later I hear him coming as well, louder than me. He rests his head on my shoulder as he deals with the aftershock of his orgasm. I kiss his cheek and brush through his hair. I think this might have been the fastest orgasm we both ever had. He raises his head and looks into my eyes before kissing me softly. "I love you, too." he promises me.

It's like balm to my soul every time he says that to me. I smile at him as I feel him exiting me. Seconds later my legs have steady ground beneath them. Taking his hand, we walk under the running water. It's warm and comforting. I watch him putting shower gel on his hands before foaming it with water. This definitely wasn't the way he once planed this to end. His hands start washing me and I giggle.

He smiles as well, "What?"

"We're at a sex party and what do we do? We're showering." I point out our situation before putting shower gel on my hands. Carefully, I start washing my husband's body. His muscles vibrate from my touch as my hands glide over him. A shooting, a child and a kidnapping later and we're still head over heels in love with one another. Our bond is stronger than ever.

He grabs my foamy hands and places them on his butt. Calling it a sexy one, would be an understatement. "I don't need a party to know how to fuck you throughly."

I gulp, "No you don't." I agree with him before I continue putting foam on his body. I lower to my feet as I wash his legs and stop as I see his growing erection. Slowly my hands start massaging the precious part of my husband. It vibrates in my hands and I hear a sharp whistle coming out of my husband's mouth. He enjoys my touch as much as I enjoy touching him. Suddenly, his hands on mine stop me.

I look up at him, confused.

"I planed to fuck you once in here, not twice. You're not going to ruin that plan."

I bite my lip, feeling my sex responding to his words. I rise and walk closer to him until I feel his pulsing erection against my stomach, "What if once is not enough?" I ask him in a whisper as we both stand under the running water.

Suddenly I feel icy cold water running down on us and I cry out in surprise. Every muscle of mine clenches and I feel goosebumps covering my skin. I want to step out of the cold, but his hands on my arms stop me. He pulls me closer to him before kissing me passionately, making me forget the coldness that's surrounding us. I feel cold on the outside, but my insides are burning.

"You are unfair." I say as he turns off the water.

There's a grin on his lips, "Let's go, my love."

* * *

"Today has been just perfect." I am drawing circles on my husband's toned abs. Our legs are tangled up beneath the sheets. I don't remember the last time I didn't sleep the night and enjoyed it so much. Troy was right, we were up the whole night and somehow I don't feel tired at all. I feel energized, full of happiness and love. The sun is slowly starting to rise above the rough sea. "Or rather yesterday."

His fingers brush through my hair. "I'm glad you enjoyed my plans."

I look up into his eyes, "Every single part of it."

His lips kiss me softly. "So much that you didn't even call home again."

I chuckle, as I feel his fingers traveling down my spine. "That was because you kept me busy the whole time." I look out of the window, seeing the sunrise with the white cliffs and the rough sea is so breathtaking.

His fingers free my neck from my hair before I feel his lips kissing me. Quickly, his lips have awaken my desire for him again. God, this feels like years ago when we used to lock ourselves up in the bedroom back in Manhattan...

I smile, "If we continue this, I'm afraid we won't leave that room any time soon." I mumble before his lips find mine. I return his kiss and feel his bodyweight rolling me on my back.

"Oh, I don't plan to leave this place until the late morning." there's a grin on his lips as he kisses his way down to my breasts.

I am about to respond, but instead a moan comes out of my lips as his lips start sucking on my nipple. I grab the sheets beneath me as his mouth performs magic once more. His hunger for me is just as voracious as mine is for him.

* * *

 **A new - rather long - chapter of Troy's plans for Gabriella. Did you like his plans? Please review!**

 **Xoxo**


	19. Chapter 19

_Hey what's up? It's been a while_

 _Talking 'bout it's not my style_

 _Thought I'd see what's up_

 _While I'm lightin' up_

 _It's cold-hearted, cold-hearted_

 _Know it's late but I'm so wide_

 _Saw your face and got inspired_

 _Cause you let it go, now you're good to go_

 _It's cold-hearted, cold-hearted_

I brush through my hair and bite my lip as I try to find the one magical ingredient that this song is missing. Sometimes producing songs feels like cooking or baking. You'll get better with practice and start listening to your instincts. I've been sitting in my home studio for hours now, finishing off most songs of Zayn's album. I lean against the mixing console, my eyes staring at the reference monitors. Notes and diagrams stare back at me. Behind the monitors I can see the microphones in the isolation booth. It's a small room, which is both soundproofed to keep out external sounds and keep in the internal sounds and it is designed for having lesser amount of diffused reflections from walls to make a good sounding room. Unlike the studios at Unfaithful records, my studio at home doesn't have a very large live room and four to five small isolation booths. I have one control room, a large live room in which I record the instruments and one isolation booth. It's small, but perfect for what I have in mind. I want to work closer with my artists here. The lyrics for _'like I would'_ have been recorded as well as most of the instruments... but something is missing. Working with Zayn has been the right decision as his first single is still on number one of iTunes charts - ten weeks after it's release.

My eyes move behind me as my daughter starts making noises. I smile as I see her fast asleep on the couch behind me. She's babbling in her sleep, dreaming of god knows what. Adaline has grown so much over the last weeks, giving insight of what Victoria has never seen when I grew up. I can't believe these kind of humans exist... I would never leave my daughter alone.

I'm lucky that Adaline seems to enjoy my music as much as I do. Even with normal volume on, this girl is dancing around in her dreamland. I press a few buttons on the control board, playing with the beats, the notes of his voice and the strength of the background singers... This single has to be as good as his first one.

 _Oh oh_

 _This is probably gonna sound wrong_

 _Promise it won't last long_

 _Oh oh_

 _If we can never go back_

 _Thought you'd like to know that_

 _He, won't touch you like I do_

 _He, won't love you like I would_

 _He don't know your body_

 _He don't do you right_

 _He won't love you like I would_

 _Love you like I would_

I start singing along, adding a nice beat to it. I smile as I realize that this song will sound just right with faster beats, a faster melody and some echoes. A remix version - my next task. Unfaithful records will break records with that singer. I can feel it.

I look over to my left as the door opens. I can see my husband in his dark navy colored suit stepping in. I didn't realize it was already far after midnight.

 _"He won't love you like I would, like I would... he can't love you like I would..."_ I sing and watch a smile appear on his lips.

"You seem in a good mood." he whispers before kissing me.

I press the pause button before I wrap my arms around the neck of my husband. "It's amazing what a night with my husband can do to my creativity." I breathe out.

He smiles before his eyes see our sleeping daughter.

"She just stopped babbling."

"She talked in her sleep again?"

I shrug, "More or less talked... The words hi, daddy, mommy, red, green and blue fell out of her mouth occasionally." I can't believe my own words. Our daughter is almost six months old and already so far in her development. It's a kind of development that should be nearly impossible. Specialists told us what he knew already: she's highly gifted. Very highly gifted. Yet, she still finds it hard to sleep through the nights.

"What are you working on?"  
"Second single of Zayn. Do you want to listen to it? We're nearly finished with his album."

He nods before sitting down on the couch. I press the play button and let the music with the combination I just mixed fill the studio. I turn the chair around and watch him leaning back, his ears listening closely. Presenting my work to my husband is always a little nerve wrecking.

 _Hey what's up? It's been a while_

 _Talking 'bout it's not my style_

 _Thought I'd see what's up_

 _While I'm lightin' up_

 _It's cold-hearted, cold-hearted_

 _Know it's late but I'm so wide_

 _Saw your face and got inspired_

 _Cause you let it go, now you're good to go_

 _It's cold-hearted, cold-hearted_

 _Oh oh_

 _This is probably gonna sound wrong_

 _Promise it won't last long_

 _Oh oh_

 _If we can never go back_

 _Thought you'd like to know that_

 _He, won't touch you like I do_

 _He, won't love you like I would_

 _He don't know your body_

 _He don't do you right_

 _He won't love you like I would_

 _Love you like I would_

 _It's okay to want me, 'cause I want you_

 _Been thinkin' it over, but I prove_

 _So stop wasting all my time, messing with my mind_

 _It's cold-hearted, cold-hearted_

 _Oh oh_

 _This is probably gonna sound wrong_

 _Promise it won't last long_

 _Oh oh_

 _If we can never go back_

 _Thought you'd like to know that_

 _He, won't touch you like I do_

 _He, won't love you like I would_

 _He don't know your body_

 _He don't do you right_

 _He won't love you like I would_

 _Love you like I would_

 _Like I would_

The song stops and I bite my lip as my husband's eyes look into mine. He's wearing his poker face, so I have no idea which parts he liked or didn't like from the song. This is why he is such a hard negotiating party.

"What do you think?"

"It's going to be hit." he says, his eyes looking deeply into mine.

Something's bothering him. Are some parts worse than others? "But?"

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "How much of that song have you written?"

"The chorus and some parts of verses..." I trail off. What is his issue?

"And you didn't notice anything?"

"We wrote that song in four hours and recorded it in one. All in one night session. I was a bit tired to notice every single detail."

"What about now? Re-listening the song, you make no connection to your personal life?"

I frown, "What connection? It's a song about his ex. He wanted a song about his ex. Full of..."

"Jealously? Confidence? Dominance? This is not a song about a broken heart. This is a pay-off."

"So what?"

"So what?" he echoes me, before his fingers run through his hair. "Gabriella, that song's about Lucas, you and me."

My mouth falls open, "No..." I breathe out.

"Saw your face and got inspired. This is probably gonna sound wrong. Talking about it is not my style." he starts ripping the song apart in a way that makes sense. "He won't touch you like I would. He don't know your body. He don't do you right. He won't love you like I would."

"Fuck!" I breathe out and cover my mouth as Adaline moves on the couch. "I wrote that song about Lucas and you."

His fingers find mine, "Yes. You wrote that song after our date night."

The sex party... the way he wanted to erase my memory of his brother and me... the way he wanted me to know no one can love me like he would. I gulp. He's right. "No wonder that song's going to be a hit."

He chuckles, "Yes. The most personal songs seem to be the most successful ones."

"You're not mad?"

He shakes his head, "It's a good song."

"I thought I knew when I write about you... I thought I could distinguish it. But now..." I turn around and look at my MacBook Air. I scroll through the songs that Zayn has already recorded for the album. Most of them I already finished. "Because I thought that this one's about us." I say before pressing play.

 _I can taste it on your mouth_

 _And I can't leave it_

 _You're a freak like me_

 _(Can't you see?)_

 _We can work this something out_

 _(And I'm believin')_

 _You get off on me_

 _It's like cheating..._

 _I, I, I, I just want to watch you when you take it off_

 _Take off all your makeup when you take it off_

 _I just want to watch you when you take it off_

 _Take off all your clothes and watch you take them off_

 _Take it off, take it off, take it off_

 _Baby just take it off..._

 _Take it off, take it off, take it off_

 _Baby just take it off..._

I watch his eyes darken, his tongue running over his lips. No, this time he can't hide behind his pokerface.

 _Push you up against the wall_

 _Don't take it easy_

 _You like it hard like me_

 _It's what you need_

 _Let's get naked and explore_

 _Our inner secrets_

 _For what it is_

 _It's what it is_

 _I, I, I, I just want to watch you when you take it off_

 _Take off all your makeup when you take it off_

 _I just want to watch you when you take it off_

 _Take off all your clothes and watch you take them off_

 _Take it off, take it off, take it off, baby just take it off_

 _Take it off, take it off, take it off, baby just take it off_

 _Take it off, take it off, take it off, baby just take it off_

 _Take it off, take it off, take it off, baby just take it off_

 _I just can't wait to see it all_

 _I'm so turned on_

 _I just can't wait to see it all_

 _I'm so turned on_

Suddenly, my husband rises from the couch. I hold my breath, unsure of what's happening next. I get my answer as I feel his lips crashing against mine. His hands on my upper arms pull me closer to him, making me feel his reaction to my song pulsing against my sex.

 _I, I, I, I just want to watch you when you take it off_

 _Take off all your makeup when then take it off_

 _I just want to watch you when you take it off_

 _Take off all your clothes and watch you take them off_

 _I just want to watch you when you take it off_

 _Take off all your makeup when you take it off_

 _I just want to watch you when you take it off_

I let go of his lips and push the pause button. There's a seductive smile on the lips of my husband that awakes my desire and makes my heart beat even faster in my chest. "You like it."

His fingers brush through my hair, "That song is about our addiction."

I fondle his cheek, "I thought it would fit Zayn's voice."

"How can you stay so professional while hearing and writing such songs? Songs about our deepest desires... our everlasting addiction."

I tilt my head to the side, "It's my job to not lose control when we record these songs. When I edit them... that's a lot harder."

"This song makes me want to fuck you all over again." his words are a whisper that echoes through our bodies.

"Good, because it should." I say with a smile on my lips before I brush through his hair. "But not here. Not in a place I have to work and be concentrated on everything but you." Unlike his office, I do have a place I only work at.

He chuckles, "Well you ruined that for me when you fucked me in my office at Bolton's Enterprises earlier this week."

I let my thumb run over his lower lip, "It was the day I wrote that song. I recorded a demo and after that... there was no more holding back."

Suddenly, he picks my legs up and places me on the mixing console. My off white coloured Reiss skirt moves up my hips as the royal blue Blahniks entangle behind my husband's butt. His lips find mine and I get lost in his desire for me. Quickly, I feel the heat rising inside of me. Too quickly.

"Troy, my rules..." I whisper as I feel his lips kissing my neck. I close my eyes as he finds one of my erogenous zones. Damn it, he makes it hard... My hands run down his back, feeling the fabric of the Armani suit. "Not here..." my voice is hoarse and for a moment I don't believe my own words.

He stops kissing me and I stare into dark blue orbs with a turquoise marble.

"Yes, I want you there, too." I agree with him as I am still trying to find my breath.

He sighs, "I want you here..."

I shake my head, "My studio is off-limit. You can fuck me in the shower, my study, my office at Unfaithful records, the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom, the dining room, the fucking room..." I gulp as I watch his eyes react to my list, "But not here. Give me one room that is not drunken by our cries. A room I can recreate our desires in ways my recording company will profit from it."

"Okay." he takes a step back and I hop of the mixing console. My eyes stop at his erection that's nearly tearing his trousers apart. Oh he wants me so badly...

I bite my lip, no I won't change my mind. It's important for me to have a room he hasn't fucked me in yet.

"But you're done with work now." I watch him picking up Adaline, who doesn't even make a sound.

I nod as I watch my daughter's head resting against my husband's chest, whose heart is clearly mine. I hold the door open for them and watch him walking out. Once again, I wonder how he can walk with such an erection. But Troy Bolton will always be a mystery to me. I switch off the lights and lock the door of the studio before I follow my husband through the grass. It's a warm summer night and the solar lights lead us the way back to our main house. Walking the steps from the studio up to the infinity pool and the guest house before we pass our barbecue corner, the sun lounges and the herbary. The smell of peonies fills my nostrils as we walk through the canopy of bright pink peonies. Those flowers were a dream come true and one of the best gifts from my husband.

I watch him opening the side door of our kitchen before he disappears in our home. I look up at the sky and see many starts shining back at me. It looks beautiful. I grab a chair and sit down as my eyes stare at the beauty of tonight's sky. I've been so busy with work, that I didn't even had the time to appreciate the beauty above me today. My eyes start seeing the many astronomic constellations in the sky. The Big Dipper, Andromeda, Ara, Carina, Draco, Crux, Gemini, Fornax, Lupus, Musca, Hercules, Orion, Scorpius and Vela. It's such a beautiful night... Suddenly, I see a shooting star. On days like this, I have no wish. My life is full of love, laughter and happiness. I am grateful for every day I get to spent with my family.

"Gosh, you're so beautiful." I hear my husband's voice saying out of the sudden.

I turn around in the chair, seeing my husband standing behind me. The light from the living room is embracing him, giving him an absolutely irresistible look. The dark navy colored Armani suit, that silver Hermes tie around his neck... and his bright blue eyes shine brighter than any star in the sky ever could. I feel my mouth drying. "You don't look so bad either."

He walks over to me in slow steps and I allow my eyes to get drunk in my husband's appearance. Sometimes I wonder how women around him are able to work at Bolton's Enterprises. I know I couldn't. All I could think of is the body hidden behind the clothes with muscles made out of steel and a heart greater than anyone else's. I lick my lips as he stops across me. He knees down across me before his fingers touch my cheek. I hold my breath as his bright blue orbs change color right in front of me and I know he's switching from Daddy-mode into Lover-mode. It's amazing to witness and even more amazing to experience it.  
"I love you to the moon and back."

I chuckle at his words that always seem to fit the situation. "I love you, too." I kiss him softly. I feel overwhelmed as he fills the kiss with a kind of passion that takes my breath away so easily. Our tongues start dancing as I feel his hands opening my hip before they glide up my bare legs. I feel my breath quickening as his hands move further north. My body heat rises as he lets go of my lips, giving me air to breathe. His lips start kissing my neck and I tilt my head back as he finds my erogenous zones again. My sex starts pulsing, creating echoes to his lips on my skin. I can feel his hot breath on my right ear and his fingers hook into the black laced panties I am wearing. Quickly, he removes the fabric that's blocking his entrance to paradise as his lips find mine again. The black underwear glides down my legs and I lift my feet as he stripes it off the Blahniks. His hands move north, fondling my legs again. He lets go of my lips, but not before biting into my lower lip. I can hear the pulse in my ears as his fingers wrap around my hips before he picks me up. I wrap my legs around his waist, feeling my body heat rising even higher. I kiss his neck and hear deep growls escaping the lungs of my husband as he carries me away from the chair I was sitting on.

"Gabriella," he breathes out my name in a way that makes my heart skip more than just a beat. Suddenly, I feel a hard glass wall pressed behind my back. I can hear his shallow breath as my fingers start opening the belt of his trousers. Quickly, I open first the belt and then the button before they fall down the floor. I can see his pulsing erection underneath the black briefs, seeking for satisfaction that I want too. I can feel his upper body glued against mine and I wish we'd be skin on skin. Instead there's a vest, an oxford shirt, a blouse and a bra between us. He growls as my fingers hook into the elastic band on the briefs before I push them down as far as I can. Within a blink of an eye, I feel him thrusting into me. I cry out in surprise as my back clashes against the glass facade of our living room. He starts flexing his hips, moving quicker than I thought, fucking me harder than I would have expected. My fingers start wandering up his femur, scratching his skin once more. God, this feels so good... I bite my lip as he moves faster, feels deeper and harder than the glass facade behind me. His lips meet mine and I allow myself to get drunk in his taste, his movements and the rhythm he creates. My fingers dig into his naked behind as the orgasm explodes inside of me. I feel his lips on my neck before he comes in a loud growl, releasing the tension inside of me, too. My breath is shallow as I brush through his hair. We barely made it out of my studio. I gasp as I stare into his eyes. The turquoise marble has lighten up, but the dark blue is still there... he's not done with me.

"I've never fucked you under the stars." he breathes out, his fingers fondling my cheek as my body is still pressed against the glass facade.

I run my fingers under his chin with a smile on my lips, "I think fucked is the keyword here."

He chuckles and I bite my lip as I feel his erection hardening again.

"We should head inside." I suggest, impressed by my husband's needs. "I need your skin on mine. I want you naked." I whisper into his ear before I kiss his right cheek.

"I want that too." He whispers back. Suddenly, I feel him walking and I hold tighter around his hips. "I want you naked in our fucking room."

I brush through his silky hair, "Then you should walk faster, my love."

* * *

 **A new chapter. Did you like it? I still have lots of plans for Gabriella's and Troy's future. Please review!**

 **Xoxo**


	20. Chapter 20

I brush through my hair, letting the singing birds fill my ears. The rays of the sun are tickling my feet as I sit at the table outside the house. Miles and miles of vineyards are in my sight before lavender fields follow. It's a breathtaking picture of nature in it's purest form. The wine gets produced a few kilometers from here. It's a beautiful summer morning at Bolton's vineyards. It's our last here before we fly back in the late afternoon. I take a sip of my coffee enjoying the silence. It has been a wonderful trip through France and a stunning wedding before it. Miley looked breathtaking in the Vera Wang gown and I don't blame Luc for having tears in his eyes the first time he saw her. We all had to fight the tears as they voiced their vows. It's was a beautiful ceremony outside surrounded by the vineyards and the cliffs with the waves crashing against them.

I look down to the floor as I hear Adaline's laughter. She's sitting on a blanket beneath a sun shade with me playing with wooden animals. She looks up at me, holding a wooden cat.

I smile, "That's a cat."

She chuckles at me and I return her chuckle. It's such a privilege to watch her grow and become a person of her own. "Daddy," she breathes out and I watch her pupils widen just a second before I feel his hands on my shoulder blades.

"She ruined my surprise." He whispers before kissing my cheek. "Morning."

I place my left hand on his, lacing our fingers together. "She has your radar, no doubt. There's nothing she misses."

"You guys are up quite early." He kisses my knuckles.

"Adaline didn't really want to miss the sunrise, I guess." I yawn, waking up at three thirty still isn't fun. It's now six and I get to witness nature awakening around me. As beautiful as it is, sleep can be just as beautiful.

He looks down at our playing daughter before unlacing his hand from mine. Picking her up, she smiles and giggles before Troy kisses her all over her beautiful face. I watch him lifting her before pulling her closer to him again. Every time I watch them interact my breath gets taken away. Especially in the last two weeks, those two have been inseparable. It was the vacation we needed to relax and grow closer together.

"Coffee?" I ask him while he is still playing with our daughter.

"Yes." He answers, mirroring her big smile.

I rise from the chair and walk back inside. Although it's early in the morning, it's already really warm. Barefoot, I walk into the kitchen, get out a mug and fill it with coffee. Unlike me, he likes his coffee strong and black. Given the lack of sleep, perhaps I should go with black coffee as well. With the mug in my hand, I walk back outside. I stop abruptly as I see Adaline fast asleep in his arms. Seriously, how does he do that?! "You are a superhero!" I breathe out before I place the mug on the round black marbled table.

He smirks and walks pass me without a word. Shaking my head, I pick up my mug and take another big sip. It's amazing how much she has from her father. From his energy to his fast adapting skills... I let my eyes wander over the vineyards again. God, I never want to leave this place. Living in that house at Bolton's vineyards for the last week was simply incredible. We had the best time strolling around the vineyards, the little villages around them and going shopping at the farmers markets. It was a time without busy phone conferences, hours of mail work and stacks of paperwork. The nature surrounding us inspired me to write a few songs on the guitar, which I recorded on my phone. The hot sunny days, these warm summer evenings and the steamy nights with my husband... the last two weeks were exactly what we needed as family and as a couple.

I wince as I feel his lips kissing my neck before his hands on my hips twist me around. As his lips find mine, I feel him taking the mug out of my hands before placing it on the table. I wrap my arms around his neck, allowing myself to get lost in this kiss a bit more. His tongue starts dancing with mine as his hands on my hips pull me closer to him. I can feel his heartbeat, the warmth of his body and the demanding desire pulsing against my stomach. Letting go, he gives me air to breathe.

"Since when have you been awake?" His fingers brush through my hair.

"Adaline woke up at around three thirty." I say as I watch his teeth clenching. He doesn't like the fact that I didn't wake him up as well. "She was hungry. I fed her for about an hour. After that boost of energy she kept crawling around the house." His jaw relaxes.

"She didn't walk yet, did she?"

I shake my head, "In that case I would have woken you up. We both don't want to miss her first steps."

"The last weeks she grew so much... she developed so rapidly." His eyes are full of love for her and I wonder if I have the same kind of love in my eyes when I talk about our daughter.

"But she's pretty close to start walking. She rose herself from the floor a couple of times, leaning against the wall. But she fell on her butt every time laughing like crazy." I smile as I remember her laughter. She's so ambitious and even failing is something that excites her. Because she knows she's making progress.

His fingers fondle my cheek, "God I love you so much... Every time I look at Adaline, I see so much of you in her. I see your beauty, your ambition and strength. It takes my breath away."

I smile, "I love you, too. And I think she has more from you than me. She has your energy, your ability to function with so little sleep and your grace."

"She's incredible... stunning... beautiful... simply breathtaking."

I nod as my fingers brush through his silky hair, "Yes, she is." I agree with him. There are no words to properly describe our daughter as she is a product of us. Of our genes and his mysteriously mesmerizing aura.

"But I miss waking up next to my wife." He admits, running his thumb over my lower lip.

We haven't woken up next to each other in over six months. Ever since Adaline's birth our sleeping schedule has been thrown off guard. "I miss waking up next to you, too." I admit. Even here in the French nature we didn't have one night she slept through, meaning there was not one time we woke up next to each other. Because once Adaline's awake she wants entertainment non-stop. "But I have a feeling she might start sleeping the nights through in a few weeks." I smirk.

He kisses me softly, "That would be wonderful."

"It would be a dream come true." I breathe out as as I watch his orbs changing colors. Slowly the light blue fades into a turquoise color and I hold my breath. It's incredible to witness his change every single time. To my surprise another yawn escapes my mouth.

His fingers fold my cheek, "You should sleep, my angel. At least a few more hours."

I tilt my head to the side, enjoying his touch. "But you want something else."

"What I want and what you need are two different things right now."

I bite my lip, "I am not even-" I stop talking as another yawn escapes my mouth.

"Go back to bed. I'll take care of our daughter while you get some rest."

"Thank you." I whisper before kissing him softly.

* * *

The sun rays on my eyes wake me up. I roll over to my right side before opening my eyes. I smile as I see my husband sitting next to me with his MacBook opened on his legs. His bright blue orbs stare concentrated on the screen, the baby phone is standing on the nightstand. Adaline's still fast asleep in her bed next door. His Nikon camera is also on the nightstand. The French nature is beautiful to take pictures of. The last time he took so many pictures was during our Europe Trip when I was still pregnant. Now we get to take pictures of all three of us.

"You didn't have to work in bed next to me." I breathe out, causing his eyes to look at me.

He smiles, "I thought you would enjoy waking up next to me at least once."

I return his smile, "I do enjoy you being the first in my sight when I open my eyes."

"Well then I guess my plan worked out." his eyes smile wider than his lips.

"Oh yes it did, Mr. Bolton." I reach out to brush through his hair. He catches my hand in the movement, laces his fingers with mine before kissing my knuckles. "How long was I asleep for?"

"Good three hours." he answers, his thumb running over my wedding bands.

"And her?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at the baby phone.

"One and a half hour. She woke up forty-five minutes ago. She needed a diaper change and some entertainment. She fell asleep a few minutes ago and it looks like she'll sleep for longer."

"Really?"

He closes his MacBook with his free hand, "How did you sleep?"

"Good. Really good..." I say as I watch him placing the MacBook on the nightstand next to the baby phone. "So good, that I am full of energy now."

He lays down on his left side, his eyes staring into mine. "Full of energy and hungry?"

My stomach responds with a growl before I get the chance to. "I think you just got your answer."

He chuckles, "Yes, I think so as well."

I unlace my fingers from his, "I don't remember the last time I felt so rested."

His fingers fondle my cheek, "That's the real problem."

"I feel so good that I even would like to go running." I think out loud.

"Then get into your running gear, tie up your shoes and run through the vineyards." he suggests.

I bite my lip, "Should I?"

He nods, "You haven't run in a long, long time. Adaline should be asleep for at least another two hours."

I grin, "Okay." I say before kissing him.

"Okay." he echoes. "Any wish for your breakfast?"

I shake my head before rising from the bed. "It's nine in the morning and I feel like I could conquer the world!" I stretch out my limbs, "And if you're lucky, I'll conquer you after my run."

He grins as he folds his arms behind his head, "Yes, I'd like that."

* * *

I feel the sweat running down my body a good hour later. It felt so amazing running in these vineyards. I ran so fast and so far that I even reached the lavender fields. The smell was heavenly, the view breathtaking. It's a beautiful warm summer morning. I open the glass door of the house before walking into the kitchen. Drops of endorphins continue running down my body. I feel sweaty and so good!

The smell of coffee, fresh fruit and baked pancakes fill my nostrils. Stoping at the kitchen island, I lean against it. My eyes rest on the backside of my husband. God, a man in the kitchen is so sexy!

"How was your run?" his voice is deep before he turns around.

"How did you notice me?"

"Like I always do. I feel your presence." he opens the fridge, getting out a water bottle. "How do you feel?"

"Amazing!" I breathe out as he hands me the water bottle. I open it and take a big gulp. "I am all sweaty and full of endorphins!"

He smiles, mirroring my excitement. "It feels good to see you this way."

"Yes." I agree with him, "Is Adaline still asleep?"

"Yes. It gave me time to clear some work issues."

I frown, "Anything to worry about?"

He shakes his head, "No, but my phone was bursting with notifications when I turned it on anyway."

I gulp. I still haven't told him about my meeting with Franklin three weeks ago. "Were there any from your father?"

He frowns, "Why?"

"I should take a shower." I say turning around.

"No!" he says, trying to grab my arm but I move away.

"If there weren't any notifications from him then you shouldn't worry." I mumble as I rush into the bathroom.

"Gabriella!" he calls, running after me. "What do you know that I don't?"

"Nothing." I say as I reach the bathroom. I tear open the door and quickly strip out of my workout gear.

"Gabriella Maria Anne Bolton!"

Oh he's getting mad if he's starting to use my full name. I step into the shower, "It's nothing!"

He stops in front of the glass door of the shower, narrowing his eyes.

"Fine. He approached me when Miley tried on her wedding dress for the last time. Three weeks ago or so." I mumble as I twist my hair into a ballerina bun.

"What did he want?"

"Forgiveness."

"Forgiveness?!" he asks back shocked.

"Well, in the beginning it must've been his intention." I say as I turn in the water.

"What did he say?" He asks me.

I ignore his question. Answering it would bring him more unease than ease.

"Gabriella,"

"I can't hear you." I lie as I pour shower gel into my hands.

"Damn it, Gabriella answer me or shall I fuck my answer out of you!" He growls, the grip on the doorknob tight.

I bite my lip as I get under the running water again to wash of the shower gel. "I wouldn't mind that, Mr. Bolton." The warm water feels so good after my run. I feel my muscles relaxing from the pricking feeling of the water drops touching my skin. Suddenly, I feel his hand on my hips, twisting me around. His other hand grabs my wrists before he ties them with my shirt. I can feel his body heat against my back as his hands let go of my wrists. Before I can react in any way, I feel my vision going black as he ties his rolled shirt over my eyes. His smell fills my nostrils, awakening my desire for him so easily. Oh he definitely wasn't joking... My pulse is pounding in my ears as he spreads my legs. I cry out in pleasure as I feel him thrusting into me with no warning. His breath rings in my ears as he starts moving with a kind of speed he rarely has. His hands hold my wrists above my head. Once again, I am at his mercy. Quickly, he builds the orgasm inside of me. My back hollows as I feel the orgasm about to burst inside of me. He must feel it too as he suddenly exits me, leaving me greedy and needy.

"You are lucky we're not home." His voice is both a whisper and a threat.

I gulp and open my mouth to answer but close it as I feel him twisting me around again. I lick my lips as I hear my pulse pounding loudly in my ears and the running shower back in my mind. I can feel him eyeballing me.

"So lucky..." his voice is deep, erotic and full of desire.

My breath is shallow as I wait for his next move. Is he going to leave me needy? Is he going to- I feel his hands on my outer thighs, picking me up. My back crashes against the wall as he thrusts into me again with a kind of strength I haven't felt before. I cry out again, feeling his torso against mine. I wrap my legs around his waist, enjoying this position a little more. His left hand grabs my wrists and holds my arms above my head again. I lace my fingers with his, feeling his white golden wedding band. He starts moving again, but this time a bit slower, yet not less strong.

"You are such a stubborn, stubborn woman..." his breath is just as hot as I feel.

I can't respond as I feel the orgasm building again. But before it bursts, I feel him coming in a growl. I feel his breath against my right cheek as the grip around my wrists loosens a bit. This was not about me coming - it was about him.

I can't help but pout as he exists me. "You're not fair." I breathe out, still in need of him. His hands open the knot around my wrists.

"I never said I'd be fair." He admits and although I can't see his grin, I know it's very much there.

I unwrap my legs from his hips. Feeling steady floor beneath my feet, I place my hand on my hips. His fingers undo the blindfold that his shirt was and I blink a couple of times, looking into satisfied bright blue orbs. "Well then you won't get your answer, Mr. Bolton."

His lips form a thin line. Yes, I can play this game as well.

With that I leave him standing in the shower. How dare he fuck me without allowing me to come! I pad dry my body before I wrap a bathrobe around me and collect my workout clothes - well the rest that's not in shower.

"Gabriella," the water is dripping down his naked body as he has turned of the water.

"No, no you made your point very clear. But so can I." I say back, holding up my hand to shut him off. "I can keep my legs shut from now on. Until you learn how to properly worth ship me and my body." I answer before I hear Adaline crying, "Like our daughter does."

"I didn't-"

"You didn't mean it when you said it but certainly when you did it." I hiss before I rush out of the bathroom.

"Wait!" He calls after me but I don't listen. I open the door of her bedroom and see Adaline sitting in the crib. Her mouth stops crying as soon as her bright blue orbs spot me. "Good morning, my sunshine!" I can't help but smile at her. Despite her father driving me crazy, she is actually something he got done really well - with my help.

My daughter mirrors my smile, holding her hands out. "Mommy!" She squirts.

I pick her up and kiss her cheek, she's the best that's ever happened to me. "You're hungry, aren't you?" I ask as she starts stroking my cheek.

Her fingers grab on the bathrobe, giving me my answer as I walk into the living room. I sit down on the couch with the view of the French vineyards in front of me. I open the bathrobe slightly before her fingers find my breast. I give her the right nipple and she starts eating immediately. I stroke her head, summing a melody to calm me down. I am still mad at her Daddy. As on call, I hear the bathroom door opening. My head swings around and I watch him walking out. There's a fluffy towel wrapped around his hips, covering his precious body part. The same body part he used for his advantage only today. He stops in his movement as his bright blue orbs spot me looking at him. I turn my head around again before he has the chance to say anything. I don't want to hear it.

Adaline wraps her fingers around my forefinger, shifting my focus on her again. My eyes look at her, while my ears are listening for her father. He disappears in our bedroom and I sigh before I give Adaline the other breast. She seems to notice the tensed atmosphere as she eats quicker than usually. I hear the bedroom door opening again, but my eyes stay on Adaline. She places her right hand on my heart as if she wanted to calm me down. I continue stroking her head as I see Troy sitting across me on the coffee table. But I don't look up. I want him to feel how mad I am.

"Gabriella..." his voice is soft, full of sorrow.

"I don't want to talk with you right now." I say as Adaline finishes. I pick her up and close the bathrobe. There's no way he gets near this body anytime soon.

"I didn't mean to-"

"Daddy," Adaline's voice is happy and so is her face. She's glowing at her father. I slowly dare to look from her to him.

He smiles at her, mirroring her happiness. She squeaks in response before yawning. His smile drops as his eyes meet mine for a second. I look away as I start feeling his sorrow. He's not doing it again. Not this time.

Our daughter yawns again, before resting her head on my shoulder. She burps, but nothing from my milk comes out. I hear my pulse as I feel her falling asleep against my body. It takes her only a few minutes to fall fast asleep again. I sigh before I rise from the couch again.

"Let me-"

"No." I throw away his offer to bring her to bed. I don't want her to wake up again. The next few minutes won't be for her ears. Without another word from him or me, I walk back into her bedroom and lay her down in the crib again. I sigh as I watch her sleeping in the bed. She's so genuine, so perfect... I bite my lip, before I turn around and walk out. Silently, I close the door. Yet I stop in my movement as I see my husband's silhouette in front of the glass facade. Frustrated, he brushes through his hair. He is dressed in dark washed jeans and a white shirt. I gulp, fold my arms in front of my chest and walk over to him. I stop behind him, smelling shower gel and his toxic mixture. Gosh, he makes it so hard...

"He called me a virus that's infected his family." I breathe out. I watch the hackles in his neck raising as my breath touches his neck. A second later his body tenses.

"What?!" He doesn't turn around.

"Don't make me repeat that." I beg him. "He had good intentions, though. In the beginning, I mean."

He turns around, showing me exactly what he holds inside. There's anger for the words that cut deeper than any knife could and disappointment for the way his father acts around me. "He didn't even look at me at the wedding." His chin is stiff.

I gulp, "I told him to seek for your forgiveness instead of mine because I'd only give mine if he had yours..." I trail off. His eyes turn into a cold blue. "I think he understood it. That we are a union. A family. We're a package. He only gets you with me."

His lips form a thin line, "He called me once. I didn't pick up."

"You don't want to talk to him."

"No."

"You can't give him the forgiveness he seeks for."

"No."

I tilt my head to the side, "You think he is able to hurt me."

"Yes."

I brush through his damp hair, "He is not one of _them_. He can only hurt me if I allow him to."

He closes his eyes, "I don't want him in our lives."

"But I think he should be in her life." I fondle his cheek.

He clenches his teeth again, "Maybe someday... but not any time soon. He isn't worth spending time with her right now."

I bite my lip, "I don't think so."

"He insults you, yet you stand here and protect him."

"I mean..." I let my hand move down to his shoulder, "I grew up without grandparents. I don't know what it's like but I want her to have them. Proper grandparents."

"Really? You want her to have proper grandparents? A rapist, a bipolar person, a woman who isn't even worth being called anything and a man who insults everything good in my life. What kind of grandparents are that?" He tilts his head to the side.

"Your mother and my father are not enough."

"Let's take one step at a time. I am not anywhere near forgiving my father and as for right now he is exactly what Victoria is for you."

His way of saying that the topic's closed."Okay."

"Okay." He echoes.

I let my thumb run over his lower lip while biting my own.

"I'm sorry for what I did."

"Good." I nod, "Now, let's have breakfast." I take his hand and lace my fingers with his. "You still owe me one."

"I owe you a lot more." he mumbles as we raise from the couch.

"You won't step near that body in a long, long time, Mr. Bolton."

His lips form a thin line, "How long?"

"However long I decide. Could be days... or weeks." I enjoy the power I have over our relationship.

He gulps and I watch his eyes changing color. He thinks my punishment is unfair.

"Don't you dare talk about fairness right now!" I hiss at him.

"I didn't even say anything!"

"Oh I saw it in your eyes! I saw your mind thinking what your lips didn't dare to say out loud."

He closes his eyes, "I don't want to fight..." he whispers.

"Fight?! We're not fighting. We are discussing. You-"

"Don't you dare put words into my mouth that I wasn't even thinking!" He yells at me. "What is unfair, is a situation like this morning! You refuse to receive any help from me! You refuse to wake me up in the nights when our daughter is dancing around. You refuse to share this part of parenthood with me. But we are in this together. Together!"

I gulp as this conversation is taking a turn I didn't expect. "I am with her 24/7 anyway. It doesn't matter if I get up during the night or not."

"Exactly! And I only have the early mornings or late nights - if she is still awake. And then the weekends... it's not enough! I feel like I am missing so much in her life already. And then there's you..." he brushes through his hair, "I can get up during the nights as well. I can change her diapers, feed her with the milk you expressed, entertain her or rock her back to sleep... I am just as a parent as you are."

"I never said you are less of a parent because you are a working dad!" I hiss at him. How dare he even think that! "I decided to stay at home because I didn't want us to both have to stay home. I decided!"

"Like you are deciding right now! And by that you are excluding me again!"

I wave with my hands, "I am not excluding you from anything."

"Yes you are!"

"No I am not!" I yell back. His eyes are full of anger and I'm sure mine are glittering with just as much.

His body is stiff, his lips form a thin line. "Too bad you don't allow me near you. I'd fuck it out of you."

I gulp, feeling the sexual desire oh so clearly. "Too bad." I agree with him. But sex wouldn't be the solution. Yet, it's a tempting try.

His eyes dance down my body and I feel the magnetized atmosphere pulling me closer to him. I close my eyes. No, I have to stay strong. I have to stay strong. I have... I lose my breath as I open my eyes again. My husband has tilted his head to the side, his dark blue orbs still staring at me. I can see a light blue marble in those orbs and for a moment I want to give in...

But I can't. I won't. I brush through my hair, feeling my wedding rings getting caught in my dark brown curls. My eyes stop at his lips that are slightly open. I can almost feel his shallow breath against my skin. I look away, my eyes focus on the pool and the vineyards in the backyard. But my ears focus on him. I feel my heart beating heavily in my chest. My body wants him, but my mind doesn't allow it. I can't let him do that.

Suddenly I hear him moving and look at him again. Within a blink of an eye, I feel his lips on mine and his hands on my bathrobe. Quickly his finger open the bow of my belt as his tongue battles with mine. I get lost in his kisses and feel the heat between us rising. His kisses are full of desire and sorrow as his hands find my breasts. He starts massaging them, letting go of my lips. I want to say something, but all my mouth is able to form are lustful moans. God, this man knows all of my weak points... his lips kiss my neck and down my cleavage, my belly button and he stops at my mons. As he lowers to his knees, I hear the pulse in my ears pounding loudly and cry out as he starts sucking down there. "Troy," I breathe out my husband's name and moan as his lips start kissing, sucking and his teeth carefully biting. He seems determined to make up for earlier. I place my hands on his shoulders and squeeze as I feel the orgasm rising. "Stop..." my words are a whisper as my body is not strong enough. He continues building my orgasm. "Troy, I said stop." I think this time my voice is even weaker. I dig my fingernails into his shoulders. "Stop." I say again, feeling my legs starting to shake. I am so close... I am so close to... "Andrew." Our safe word has slipped out of my mouth before I even had a moment to think about it.

He stops abruptly. He heard me correctly. It feels like I pulled an emergency brake. I gulp as he raises from the floor. Did I mean it? Didn't I mean it? What just happened? My sex is pulsing, disagreeing with the decision my lips made. But there's no going back now. My body, my decision. His bright blue orbs look into mine. I have only called him by his fourth name once. That was in Manhattan, back when we just started our relationship... back, when I wasn't as confident as I am now. Unlike then, I am standing with my head held high. Our relationship grew in the last years and so did we as individuals. So far that I have the confidence to pull the emergency brake whenever I want to. Like now.

"I crossed a line."

"You crossed that line nearly three times." I remark as I close the bathrobe again. How come I feel weak and confident at the same time?

He gulps, "You haven't called me Andrew in years."

I knot the belt together. "Yes." I feel sorry and strong, yet I know I had to pull that emergency brake. It just wouldn't have been right. We would have taken a hundred steps back in our development.

He places his hands on my shoulders and I take a step back. If he touches me again, I might lose all my strength and give into him anyway. "I didn't mean to-"

I take a deep breath in, seeing the sorrow and hurt in his eyes. He thinks I am rejecting him, when I am saving us from a much deeper cut. "Don't make it harder for me. Give me back the control I gave you a few weeks ago. Just for now. I need this."

He tilts his head to the side, "I need you."

"I need you, too. But not like this. Not in this kind of situation."

His lips form a thin line and I know he disagrees with me. My body disagrees with me. But my mind is stronger.

"I decide and I won't let you take control of me when I don't want you to." I breathe out my thoughts.

He nods, "Breakfast?"

The topic's closed. "Yes." Or rather prorogued.

* * *

 **Was Gabriella's decision a big step forward or backwards in their relationship? Please review!**

 **Xoxo**


	21. Chapter 21

I let out a sigh as I flip through the massive stack of paperwork that's laying in front of me on the mahogany desk. Building a hospital is a lot more work than I thought of. From finding an equivalent property to actually building the estate... I don't even want to think of the hiring process and finding a name for the hospital. It's for a good cause, maybe even the greater good, but right now it doesn't feel like it. I've hidden myself in Troy's office with the baby monitor placed on the right edge of the desk that I've covered with hundreds of sheets of paper. After changing Adaline's diaper and putting her back to sleep, I pray she'll give me a few hours to get to work. We spent the whole day outside as it was a beautiful late summer day. We took long walks in Richmond park and enjoyed the sun in the afternoon at home. I've been going through emails and had video conferences the whole day which meant there was no time for all of this in front of me. But I need to get this done and I will get this done even if I have to work the night through. It's already around midnight and I just went through all the papers regarding the agreement for sale. I have to go through the architects idea's for the building as well as all the projections. Troy went through all of it already and gave it to me for a finale check-up. He made a few adjustments saying I might add something as well.

I take a sip of my coffee that's already cold. The LED-light from the desk lamp is shining brightly on the printed words. _Idea for the main building:_ I see graphics of a modern building. There are numbers next to the drafts so I have an idea of the measurements. It looks like a glass house. On each side there is a glass corridor that connects the main building to two other buildings. In total there are five buildings connected in that way. In the middle of the pentagon should be a garden or some kind of oasis.

I frown as my eyes look at graphic photos of the facades of each of the buildings. I don't like the whole glass-thing. It's too open. I want light and windows, but not a see-through house.

"There you are." I hear my husband's voice saying. "I've been looking for you. I didn't expect to find you here."

I look up from the sketches. My husband is standing across me, wearing a light grey suit. The white oxford shirt is already open at the collar, in his hand he's holding the dark blue colored silk tie. His hair is a bit messy. I can see the pool table behind him and the soft lightning sources hanging above the table. I thought he was nuts when he wanted to place a pool table in his office, but now I think it's genius. It gives you a clear head when all the paper work is giving you a headache.

I inhale sharply, allowing my eyes to dance down his body. It's been two weeks since our trip to France. Two weeks since I pulled the emergency brake and I haven't loosen it yet. The atmosphere between us is warm, yet it lacks the sexual fire. The sexual fire that's right standing across me... "I had to go through all of the paperwork." I breathe out, feeling my mouth drying.

He walks around the desk, stopping behind me. As he leans over to have a look at the paperwork, I inhale his scent. I close my eyes. He knows I am the only one who has the control over us. And he's doing everything to make me loosen that brake I pulled. "What do you think?"

I open my eyes again, "I don't like the design. Too many buildings and too much glass."

"I'll arrange a new meeting with the architect then." he nods, before his fingers flip through the sketches. I feel his body warmth against mine and feel his fingers brushing mine. He rolls the sketches together in front of my eyes and I follow every move his hands make, wanting them to touch mine. I gulp as I turn around in the chair. I watch him putting the sketches away in a tube. Two weeks... In the last two weeks, my husband has not been bothered to shave regularly, causing stubbles to grow. But it suits him. It makes him look rougher, more dangerous... sexier if that's even possible. He closes the tube with the lid before looking at me again. He inhales sharply and I watch his orbs changing color, "Are you planning to loosen that brake tonight?" his way of asking for allowance to fuck me.

"No." I breathe out without thinking twice, although I am long over being mad at him.

"Good, then I should go upstairs and take a shower."

I let my eyes dance down his body, stopping at his erection. I lick my lips, "Yes."

He nods, "When will you come to bed?"

I watch him walking around the desk again, exiting the dangerous zone that we are in when we're too close. "In about an hour."

Without another word he starts walking away from me. I lean back in the chair and watch my muscular man walking away from me. He walks around the pool table and I sigh as he reaches the door.

"Wait," I breathe out as his hand is resting on the doorknob. He stops in his movement and I rise from the chair. I walk around the desk and grab two billiard cues on my way to the pool table.

He turns around and I throw a billiard cue in his way, "You want to play pool?" his hand catches it with ease.

"Yes." I say as I get out the balls. I place them on the dark red table. "Eight-ball."

"What about?" I awoke his attention.

"That." I say nodding, towards his erection. "I think we should do something about your little issue."

"Little issue?" he raises an eyebrow at me, "My love, I think you've forgotten how big it can get."

I gulp, yes I almost forgot how big it can get. "And diamond hard." I whisper.

"So, if I win I get to fuck you?" the turquoise marble in his dark blue eyes is glittering as he straightens the tie in his hands.

"If I win," I start and watch him walking over to me, "you'll take me into the room of pleasure." I signalise him that I am all in.

"And if I win?" there's a smirk on his lips before he throws the dark blue tie on the arm chair that's standing in front of the book shelves. He likes my idea.

"Your choice." my fingers start playing with the cue ball. "The place, the position, the timing, the speed... and the tools if you want to use any."

He nods, "Break." his breath is shallow.

I bite my lip, "Okay..." I say, my eyes resting on him before I shoot with the cue stick against the cue ball. The break shot tears the object-rack apart. Solids and stripes fall into the pockets. Though, more solids than stripes I notice as I let my eyes glide over the dark red playing field. Two solids and one striped ball. "Solid." His eyes watch me walking around the table before I bent over the table to shoot another solid into a pocket. I am aware of my exposed cleavage.

He wheezes, seeing my controlled movement. I let my eyes dance around the balls on the table, seeing the red solid right in front of him. I walk over to the left corner, bent over the table and hit the ball with my cue stick in another control movement. It falls straight into the pocket in front of my husband's erection. "You seem to have some experience, Mrs. Bolton."

I shrug as I walk around the table and over to him, "Maybe." I have a look over the playing field again, this time having the blue solid in my focus. I position my cue stick and bent over. Just as I am about to hit the cue ball, I feel his hand on my hips. Wincing, I miss the best point to hit the cue ball and I foul as the cue ball hits neither the solids nor the stripes. "That was unfair." I breathe out, turning around. I've lost. In an blink of an eye.

There's a grin on his lips, "We didn't set up any rules."

"I want a rematch. You didn't even get a chance to play." I inhale sharply as I feel his hands on my thighs.

"Really? You want a rematch?" he asks, letting his hands glide up, gathering the fabric of my turquoise colored dressed.

I nod, being lost for words as I feel the heat in my body rising.

"Right now?" his voice is a whisper as he moves closer to me.

"Yes..."

"Right here on his table?" I feel his hot breath against my neck.

"Yes..." my breath is shallow as his hands grab on my hips. With ease, he lifts me and places me on the table. My clirotis starts pulsing in anticipation. Even if my mind wanted me to say no, there is no way I could right now.

"Exactly like this?" he asks me as his fingers travel up my legs before they find my laced panties.

"Hmm..." I bite my lip as I feel his fingers pulling my panties down. Slowly, he stripes the laced black fabric down my legs before gathering them in his hands. I close my eyes as I feel his hot breath in the nape of neck and it's driving me insane.

He takes a step back and I open my eyes. "Good." he says, putting my panties into the pocket of his trousers. "But I'll keep those."

I frown as I watch his dirty grin. He likes to play the game as well. "Fine." I say before hoping off of the table. "For each ball I pocket, you take a piece of clothing off." I say as I watch him collecting the balls again.

"Fine. But the same goes for you."

"But I am only wearing a dress, a bra and Louboutins!" I start arguing. That's far less than he is wearing.

"Exactly." his lips form a grin as he eyeballs me, "But you get to keep on your shoes."

I roll my eyes, my husband and his Louboutin obsession. "Good, but no external influences, Mr. Bolton. That includes no touching, no sniffing and definitely no sexy I-want-to-fuck-you kind of looks. And you get to stripe off two clothing pieces per ball. To stay fair."

He smirks, "I'm fine with your conditions." he sets up the table for a new match.

I gulp as I watch his hands arranging the play balls. "Oh and you break this time."

"Good." he says with a shrug before break-shooting into the match. I watch five stripes and two solids falling into the pockets. Of course he's excellent at eight-ball. There's nothing he can't do. "Stripes." he calls smiling.

I shake my head and walk around the table with the cue stick in my hand. He'll pocket the remaining two in less than a blink of an eye. His eyes focus the blue striped billiard ball in the right pocket. I walk into the right corner of the table and stand behind it. His eyes focus mine as his cue stick hits the cue ball with strength. I watch the blue striped ball fall straight into the pocket. "This game might be over sooner than you think, Mrs. Bolton."

I sigh before I open the hooks of my bra. I get out of it before holding it up by the straps. I watch his eyes staring at the black laced bra from La Perla, that didn't even cover my nipples. Such a shame that he didn't see me wearing it. "We'll see." I say with a shrug.

He licks his lips before he looks at the table again. He aims for the yellow striped ball. I hold my breath as I watch his cue stick hitting the cue ball and exhale as the yellow striped ball misses the pocket. He'll have to wait a little longer to see me naked. "Your turn."

I grin as I bent over and hit the cue ball with my stick. The green solid ball falls into a side pocket. My eyes focus my husband. "Take'em off, Mr, Bolton."

With a smile on his lips, he gets out of his jacket and shoes. He places the jacket on an armchair in front of a book shelve.

I take another look at the table to calculate my next moves. I want him naked. Red ball, then blue and yellow. And I always get what you want. I bent over and pocket the red ball, positioning the cue ball right in front of her blue ball. "I am ready to see some skin."

He chuckles before taking off his sock. "Is that enough skin?

"Two socks count as one clothing item." I inform him smiling. "And it's by far not enough skin, Mr. Bolton."

He takes off the other sock before folding them and placing them on the armchair. My eyes get drunk in his image and I expect him to start unbuttoning his shirt, but instead he opens his trousers before they slide off of his legs. With a grin on his lips he steps out of them, "Didn't expect that, did you Mrs. Bolton?" He folds them and places them on the back of the armchair above his jacket.

I smile, "The sequence is up to you. The result is what matters the most, Mr. Bolton." I walk past his smiling face and eyeball him. The black Armani briefs are barely holding in his erection. "You like what you see?"

"Always..." I look away from his impressive body and focus on the table in front of me. My aim is to get him naked. As soon as possible. With a softly push, I pocket the blue ball.

"What about accessories?" He asks opening the leather band of the ROLEX I gifted him as a wedding present.

"Watch and cuffs count as two items." I explain as he places the watch on the armchair. He starts opening the cuffs of his white oxford shirt. I watch him placing the cuffs next to the watch and catch myself being mesmerized. I love watching him undressing.

His lips form a grin, "You're having fun, yet?"

"Very much." I agree, mirroring his grin before I turn my attention back to the game. As calculated the cue ball stoped a few centimeters in front of the yellow ball. "Get ready to loose even more clothing, Mr. Bolton." With that I shoot the cue ball with my stick, pocketing the yellow ball into the aimed pocket. "But to stay fair, you get to take off only one clothing piece so we are equally dressed with each remaining one piece."

He smirks, "I obey your order, Mrs. Bolton..."

I hold my breath as I get ready to see his toned abs that are still covered by his white shirt, but to my surprise his fingers stripe down his black Armani briefs. I inhale sharply, as I see his pulsing, thick and long cock. Holy shit... The white oxford shirt might still on, but the fabric barely covers his butt, let alone the precious part at the front. "Definitely not a little issue, we're dealing with."

He lets his briefs fall on the armchair, smiling. "Oh, it'll be a pleasure to get rid of this issue... as many times as I want."

It takes all of my will to turn away and look at the remaining balls on the billiard table. I just have the orange one left. One play ball and the 8 ball. I can do the remaining balls. I take a deep breath before I shoot the cue ball. It hits the orange solid ball, but I don't pocket it. I sigh, I was so close! "Your turn, Mr. Bolton."

There's a smile on his lips before his eyes find the yellow striped ball. With one strong push he shoots the cue ball with his stick. As calculated it hits the yellow striped ball. My eyes follow the ball until it sinks into the pocket. "Take that dress off." His voice is a demand.

I bite my lip and grin as I realize I am wearing accessories as well. My diamond earrings. "Not so fast, Mr. Bolton." I say as I start taking my earrings off. His eyes follow my movements as I place them next to his cuffs on the armchair.

There's a whistle escaping his lips as he shakes his head. His eyes focus on the 8 ball. "Side pocket." He designates the pocket before shooting. I watch the 8 ball rolling into the direction of the side pocket but suddenly it stops at the cushion.

I chuckle, "Looks like I'll win after all." I say before pocketing the orange solid ball in one movement. I look up at my husband. "Take it off." I demand with a grin on my lips.

He chuckles before his fingers start unbuttoning the white oxford shirt. Slowly, he starts peeling the shirt off of his glorious upper body. Man, how much I missed this view! I allow my eyes to dance down my husband's naked figure. I feel my sex responding to what I see and my mouth getting dry. I have one fine looking husband. "You're enjoying the view?"

"Very much." I say mirroring his smile.

"Make your next move so I get to have an equally as beautiful view."

I gulp, not being able to look away. For a moment, I want to quit and throw myself at him. The grip around my cue stick loosens.

"Oh no quitting." Troy says, "or else it will have serious consequences."

I close my eyes, take a deep breath in and scan the playing field after I opened my eyes. "Bottom right." I call out before pocketing the 8 ball. But to my surprise the cue ball follows. "Shit." I breathe out as I watch the cue ball sinking into the pocket.

"You fouled two times in a row, Mrs. Bolton." He walks around the pool table and over to me. I turn around, leaning against the table. He stops across me, "That means I won. Again."

"Yes." I hear my heartbeat pounding loudly in my ears.

"And now on to my prize..." his fingers gather the seam of my turquoise colored dress. I hold my breath as his hands pull the dress over my head, "what a beautiful, beautiful prize that is..." his eyes dance down my body, "simply stunning, Mrs. Bolton." His warm hands start fondling my shape of my body. I feel my breathe quickening. Gosh, his touch on my skin feels so good. "The conditions are still the same?" His voice is a whisper as his dark blue orbs stare into mine.

"Yes."

"The place, the position, the timing, the speed and the tools are all up to me?"

The turquoise marble appears in his orbs and I gulp, "Yes." My voice is hoarse.

"You're giving me control back over..." his fingertip travels down my cleavage, around my belly button and down to my sex, "you."

I close my eyes as I feel his fingertip hovering above my sex.

"Answer me."

"Yes." I breathe out as I open my eyes. I feel the heat inside of me rising as my sex starts pulsing, aching for his touch.

He inhales, closing his eyes. He waited two weeks for this. I watch him folding his hands in front of his heart before he opens his eyes. The turquoise marble in his orbs has disappeared as I am left in a sea of dark blue. "I'm gonna be very rough with you." His words are a warning, yet it's an information that floats like hot desire through my veins.

I gulp, feeling my body reacting to his words. "Then be rough with me."

His hands on my hips twist my body around before the palm of his left hand pushes my back down. I feel his wedding band in my back as his feet spread my legs open. I hear the pulse in my ears, feel my heart nearly bursting with desire. His right hand grabs my wrists. He stretches my body out on the dark red felt. God, why does this feel so good? I am laying naked on the table. I cry out as I feel him thrusting into me. God, his big size feels so good. I feel him stretching me, but he doesn't give me time to adjust to his size. He moves out until I feel his head brushing my clirotis. Without another word, he pumps into me again. Harder this time. My hips clash against the table as another moan escapes my lungs. His breath is hot against my neck as he moves out again. He starts increasing his speed and I feel my orgasm building just as fast. Closing my eyes, I surrender into the emotions only my husband can make me feel. "Troy," I breathe out my husband's name. But to my surprise he stops moving for a moment before exiting me. I open my eyes, waiting for his next move. I hear his breath in my ear and realize we're breathing equally as shallow. He's enjoying this, yet I don't know why he stoped. Suddenly, his right hand lets go of my wrists before I feel his hands twisting my body around again. I feel my mouth drying as I stare into my husband's eyes that are as full of desire as mine are. His hands move down my hips and beneath my knees. His touch echoes in my sex. Within one movement, he has lifted me on the table. The palms of his hands rest on my inner thigh and I feel my sex pulsing in anticipation. What's his next move? He slowly bends his elbows, spreading my legs softly wider. I moan as I feel the stretch, but it feels nothing compared to him inside of me. He takes a step closer to me. I look down as I feel his pulsing erection brushing my clirotis again. It's big, long and beautiful. I still wonder how I am able to absorb all of him. I am not sure if he's punishing me or himself. His fingertips lift up my chin until his eyes meet mine again.

"I love you." His words are a whisper and full of truth.

"I know. I never doubted your love for me." I say just as truthfully.

His thumb runs over my lips, before he kisses me softly. The roughness in the atmosphere has disappeared. I wrap my arms around his upper body as I return his kiss. Our tongues start dancing as our private parts pulse in anticipation. But neither of us gives into the primitive need. Instead he continues kissing me, fondling my cheeks... cherishing me on levels I didn't think we could reach. As he lets go of my lips, I feel safe, loved and beautiful. I fondle his cheek, "I love you, too." I say back. He kisses my lips softly before he kisses the nape of my neck, my cleavage... he sucks on my left nipple before biting softly into my right. My sex responds to his movements, echoing to every touch with anticipation. I feel like hot chocolate in the sun as he kisses down to my belly button. He picks up my legs and I lean back on my bent elbows. The heels of my Louboutins are standing steady on the wooden edge of the pool table. The stretch in my lower body is much more intense now, but I feel no pain. I feel his hot breath against my sex and close my eyes as he starts kissing me down there. To my surprise I cry out as he starts sucking, licking and biting softly into my flesh. His tongue starts dancing, sending signals to every single nerve in my body. His hands let go of my bent knees and my feet fall down, hanging loosely in the air as I don't have the strength to keep them up. Gosh, this feels so good! Quickly, I feel the orgasm building again - only this time it feels bigger. My husband knows how to treat me right... he learned from his mistake. My fingers grab around the wooden edge of the table as the orgasm is about explode. His tongue starts dancing slower, as if he wanted to enjoy this a bit longer. I start winding from his mouth and it's effect on me. My fingers release the wood and stop at his hip. I lay flat on the pool table as my fingernails dig into his hip, trying to signalise him what my mouth is unable to. He starts sucking and biting a bit harder again just as I release my grip from his hips. My hands move behind his butt and I dig my nails into that steel hard ass as the orgasm explodes inside of me like a thousand volcanos at once. I cry out his name, feeling my muscles tightening all at once. I hear the blood rushing through my veins as I feel his warm breath blowing against my sex. My body vibrates as I feel the orgasm slowly fading. I breathe heavily as I barely notice his kisses moving up north again. I feel his lips kissing my hips, my waist, my cleavage, each of my breasts and my neck.

"I love cherishing my wife." His hot breath clashes against my neck before I feel his lips kissing the right corner of my lips. I open my eyes as I feel his hand fondling my cheek. My legs are still shaking. I feel like jelly, yet I am full of endorphins. I gulp as I see all facades of his love for me in his eyes. There's so much love... so much love.

The same amount of love that I feel. Maybe more. Using my core, I raise from the pool table, closing the gap between us. I feel his huge cock pulsing against my stomach demanding what I just experienced. I wrap my arms around his neck before kissing him passionately. I feel his body giving into my kiss before he flexes his hips. Our tongues start dancing just as he slowly enters me. I am surprised by the soft movement as well as the size which has grown already in such a little time. I let go of his lips to catch my breath. I feel him stretching me in a way he has never before. This feels so good... so good. His fingers fondle my cheeks before he brushes through my hair. "Are you ready?" His voice is a whisper as I am still trying to catch my breath.

I shake my head, placing my head on his left shoulder. I hear his breath in my ear, feel his heartbeat against mine. "No." I feel his erection reacting to my movement.

"Am I causing you pain?" His voice reaches my ears.

"No." I kiss his left cheek. "You could never cause me pain."

"Do you want me to stop?" His muscles stiffen a bit.

I fondle his face with my right hand, "No." I know he would if I asked him to.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't want this moment to end." I breathe out my thoughts. It took us so long to reach this point in our relationship. I don't want it to get ruined by either of us again. "I want to stay in this moment forever."

I feel his body relaxing as he realizes he is not making any mistake at all. He sighs before lifting my head off of his shoulder, "I know. I want this, too." He brushes through my hair.

"Good."

"Good." He echoes before pulling me into another kiss. As our tongues dance with one another, I feel him flexing his hip.

I let my fingers travel down his back, feeling his muscles vibrating from my touch. He needs me as much as I need him. "I don't want you to hold back." I say into his eyes as my fingernails softly scratch his back. "Ever."

A smile appears on his lips that's full of love, hot desire and gratitude. I wish I could smile like that. I wish I could show my emotions as well as he does. I gasp as I feel his right thumb running over my lower lip again, "What did I do to deserve you?" he tilts his head to the side, his eyes focused on my lips as I part them.

I want to answer, but instead I moan as I feel him thrusting into me. It's a strong movement, yet it has nothing from the animalistic, hard thrusts a few minutes ago. These are controlled with a beautifully, lovingly speed I enjoy. He flexes his hips again, before thrusting into me once more. I grab tight on his hips as he uses them again to exit me. I feel his muscles working as he thrusts into me again and I move along, meeting him half-way. Suddenly, he exits me half-way before his hands grab mine. I hold my breath and tighten my core as he laces his fingers with mine. I feel his wedding band as I run my ring finger over it. It's so much more than just a ring to him and me. I stare into his bright blue orbs as he places our laced fingers on his shoulders. He unlaces his fingers from mine before his hands move to my hips. I breathe heavily, feeling my sex pulsing. I need more of him. Much more... His fingers wrap around my hips as he thrusts with full force into me. His fingers on my hips stabilize me as I tilt my head back. I am so close... "Come for me, my angel." his voice is a whisper that reaches a level deep, deep inside of me. He flexes his hips before thrusting into me even harder this time. I curl my toes in the Louboutin heels and squeeze his shoulder blades as I feel the orgasms bursting inside of me. My back hallows as the orgasms rushes through my veins and his hands on my hips keep me safe. He thrusts into me and I feel him coming in a loud growl as well. His body stiffens beneath my hands before the orgasms rushes through his veins as well. His upper body leans softly against mine as we both are still catching our breaths. Two weeks... I let him wait two weeks for this. He kisses me softly as he exits me. There's a big smile on his lips as I brush through his hair. "That felt very good, Mr. Bolton."

He chuckles, "I thought I'd rather take it easy on you..."

I tilt my head to the side, frowning.

"before working my way up." he finishes his sentence.

I gulp as I realize working his way up, literally means, working his way up into the first level of our house. "I'll go sky-high with you." I promise him.

His fingers fondle my face as I feel him exiting me, "I know." he adds with a small smile on his lips. "But for now, upstairs is enough." with that he grabs my hips and pulls me into his arms. I close my eyes as I feel the body warmth of his torso against mine. We're both sweaty, both hot from the desire floating through our bodies. A desire only we know. I wrap my arms around his neck before criss-crossing my legs behind his butt. "Hold tight."

"I'll never be able to let go of you." I whisper into his ear before kissing his cheek. "I'm enjoying the stubbles."

He smiles at my words, "The second baby phone is in the bedroom?"

I nod, "Yes." I whisper as I place my chin on his right shoulder. I feel his hands lifting me before they move down my butt as he starts walking.

"Good." he says, walking out of his office and leaving the situation behind us. I listen to his heartbeat as he walks with me wrapped around him through the hallway and living area. My eyes scan the wide living space. The light sources from the foyer light the living area up. There are framed photos standing on the mantelpiece. My rolled yoga mat is standing next to the open fireplace. Next to the huge couch is Adaline's carpet on which she plays with her toys. Her toys are collected in a box that's placed in the corner. I smile, she's bringing so much joy and love to both of us. My eyes follow his movement as he walks into the foyer. As he walks pass the marbled round table, I notice the red peonies that are hanging lifelessly in the vase. "We need to get new peonies." I breathe out as he starts walking up one of the two staircases that lead upstairs. His head follows mine before his eyes notice the peonies as well, "I ordered a flower delivery for tomorrow morning today. Should be in after my morning run."

I smile at his way of thinking. He's always ahead of me. "Women dream of husbands like you."

"I am an original that's owned by you." the palm of his left hand moves up my back. I gasp, as I feel my sex reacting to his touch. One simple movement from my husband and my desire is awake. "Stop." I demand in a whisper.

He listens to me, I realize as he stops between two stairs. "What's wrong?"

"Take a step to the side." I demand and he obeys. "Another one." I breathe out before I feel the wall behind my back. "And now kiss me like there's no tomorrow."

"I thought, I was in con-" I shut him off by my lips. Kissing him passionately, I bury my fingers in his hair. He returns my kiss before releasing his hands from my butt. I feel his hands on my face as our tongues start battling, dancing their very own tango. I feel his erection starting to grow again as his teeth bite into my lower lip.

"I am in control." he breathes out as his thumb runs over my lower lip.

"Bucket list." I breathe out with a raised eyebrow.

 _Flashback_

 _"Ready to have a first look at our new home?" the golden keys are hanging on his ring finger. There's a grin of excitement on his lips and a sparkle of joy in his eyes. He's so addictive!_

 _"It better be as impressive as these massive doors are!" I say with a smile on my lips as my eyes focus the entrance doors behind my fiancé. There are massive dark wooden doors. Today is one of the rare days on which the property is completely empty. No craftsmen are in our sight, we have the whole property for ourselves. I watch Troy turning around before unlocking the front door. He pushes the doors open and I gasp at the huge foyer that I am facing. There are two curved marble staircases with black wrought iron railings leading upstairs. I walk inside the marbled entrance, feeling totally blown away._

 _"Do you like it?" his voice reaches my ears. "We have the same kind of staircase in the kitchen as a shortcut to our bedroom."_

 _I look around, this is a completely different house! What we bought was already breathtaking, but this... this is so much more! I walk over to the right marble curved staircase and touch the black wrought iron railing. It's a floral black iron that's moving upstairs. It looks so beautiful. "I want a round marbled table right here..." I point out my vision for this foyer. "With the same black wrought iron railing as the table bases. And peonies in a vase standing on the table."_

 _"I'll make sure you'll always have fresh peonies in a vase standing on that table." he hugs me from behind._

 _I lean against his strong torso as my eyes follow up the left staircase. Such a beautiful, beautiful staircase. These couldn't be more perfect. His glance follows mine._

 _"Yes, I promise to fuck you on these staircases."_

 _I chuckle. There is really not a minute when he doesn't think of sex. "Is that on mine or your bucket list?"_

 _"Both." he says before kissing my cheek. "And now come, we have a lot more to look at. Including a gallery and glass facade that will take your breath away!" he laces his fingers with mine before pulling me through the foyer. I laugh and hear my laughter echoing in the structural work that's our future._

 _End of flashback_

"Next time." he promises me, his breath being hot against my face. He kisses me quickly before holding on to me again as he continues walking up the stairs.

"You're enjoying having control of me." I breathe out my thoughts.

"Yes, because you have control of me." he admits, "Every day, minute and second you are on my mind. You have a kind of control over me that no one else ever will. I'll do anything for you to make you happy."

My eyes look at the white wall as he walks up the stairs. "We should turn one wall into a gallery wall with framed photos of our trips... and paintings. Maybe a Cézanne."

I feel a chuckle escaping his lungs as I lean against his torso again, "I am confessing my love and you are thinking about interior decorating..."

"I didn't get to cross off a point on my bucket list. I need distraction."

He shifts his weight, lifts me a bit further up and moves his right arm as I now sit on it. Only Troy Bolton can balance me on one arm. With his free hand, he brushes through my hair, "Distraction is my specialty."

I bite my lip as I feel my body reacting to his touch. "Walker faster please."

"I thought I was in control tonight."

"I am making suggestions."

Laughing, he shakes his head. "I think Sotheby's has a Cézanne in auction in about two weeks."

We reach the first floor. "I'll have a look at their website tomorrow." I let my fingers dance around on his muscular back as his feet walk us through the hallway.

"You're enjoying teasing me tonight, aren't you?"

I grin, "You enjoyed the eight-ball as much as I did."

"I think you need a little more practice, Mrs. Bolton."

"If we play by the same rules, we can practice as many times as you wish, Mr. Bolton."

* * *

I'm summing a melody as I walk through the hallway. I wrap the silk morning gown with laced edges around the black v-cut shirt that I stole from Troy's part of the closet. My eyes scan the naked light grey walls in our hallway. We should hang paintings and framed photos up here as well. Photos from our trip to France would look good. With my naked feet, I walk down the marbled staircase and let my hands glide over the black wrought iron railing. The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills my nostrils before my eyes see the kitchen island that's covered in fresh fruit, a bowl of yoghurt, orange juice and an empty cup that says Mrs. in black. Smiling, I take the cup before I fill it up with freshly brewed coffee. I look out of the window, seeing the bright sun shining above the Thames. It's a beautiful September morning. I pick up a fresh strawberry before eating it. Adaline's laughter fills my ears as I walk around the kitchen island. She's already in the living room. I walk through the dining room and stop in my movement as I watch Adaline walking with Troy's hands holding her hands up in the sky. Slowly, she lifts one foot after another, squeaking as she loses balance. Troy's hands catch her before lifting her up. He kisses her cheeks and she chuckles. Her bright blue orbs widen as she recognizes me. "Mommy," her voice is the best sound in the world.

I watch her father's head swinging around before a smile appears on his lips, "Good morning."

I walk over to them and kiss him softly before kissing my daughter's cheek. "You guys seem in a good mood."

"We've been having an amazing morning so far." he says as his eyes dance down my body, "But seeing you might be the best part yet."

"What time is it?" I place my cup on the coffee table.

"10:30."

I frown, "How come I slept until 10:30?!" I can't believe my own words.

"Well, Adaline was up at six and so happy to see me that we decided to talk a walk in Richmond Park this morning. She drank two whole bottles while we walked around. We saw the sun waking up the flowers and the ducks running around before heading to the Farmer's Market."

"You were at the Farmer's Market?" I ask surprised, "All alone by yourselves?"

"Yes. What, should it be hard or something completely unmanageable?"

"No, it's just... No, not at all." he's never been to the Farmer's Market with her alone before.

"Our daughter had them all under her spell within a blink of an eye." he smiles at her before his blue orbs find mine.

"I'm sure it was the combination of the breathtaking father with the breathtaking daughter." I smirk.

He rolls his eyes, "It was a very nice morning."

"It sounds like it."

"I washed some fruit for you and let it on the kitchen island." he nods behind me.

"I know. I saw it. I'm just not hungry..." I let my eyes dance down his body, "for food."

"Oh if that's the situation," he says, holding up Adaline before making her laugh by shaking her slightly, "you should fall asleep." She giggles and I doubt that she'll fall asleep in the next minutes. "Because mommy finally allowed daddy to..." he closes his mouth and licks his lips as he looks at me. "Fuck her properly again." he adds in a whisper tone to me.

I gasp, "I sure did, Daddy."

His glance holds mine for a second before he turns his attention towards our daughter again, "And this is why you should fall asleep as soon as possible." Adaline touches his nose and chuckles. He pulls her closer to him and she wraps her tiny arms around his neck.

"Do you want me to bring her to bed?" I ask him.

He shakes his head, "We're doing quite good here, thanks Mommy."

I smile as I watch them walking away from me.

"You should eat something. You'll need the energy." he promises me as I watch them walking up the marbled staircase.

I chuckle before I walk back to the kitchen. I get out a bowl and start filling it with fresh strawberries, raspberries, blackberries and grapes. I peel a banana and cut it quickly before throwing a bit of Greek yoghurt on top. I pass the dinning table and notice the New York Times. Grabbing it, I walk back into the living room and throw myself on the couch before starting to eat my breakfast. Local, fresh produce is the best! I look through the glass facade in our living room, seeing our garden with an infinity pool before the Thames appears. It's a beautiful sunny day, maybe one of last this year.

I flip through the newspaper, reading politics, economics and arts section. My eyes stop at the crossword puzzle before grabbing the pencil. Within minutes, I have filled out 2/3 of the puzzle. I put the pencil behind my ear, thinking of the empty boxes I couldn't fill in yet. Suddenly, I feel a burning sensation running through my body and I know he's staring at me. I look over my shoulder, spotting my husband leaning against the doorframe of the dinning room. His bright blue orbs are staring at me shamelessly, his lips form a smile I rarely catch him in and his cock is as always pulsing in his trousers. I feel my lungs losing air, my heartbeat increasing as my desire awakes for him so easily. "How long have you been staring at me?" I ask him with a smirk on my lips.

He walks over to me with long steps, his eyes focused on me. "I love you, Gabriella Maria Anne Bolton."

I feel my mouth drying as he reaches me. Without another word he kisses me. I expect his kiss to be passionately, but it's slow and full of love instead. As he lets go, I feel dizzy and drunken in love.

"If I wouldn't have already married you, I'd surely do it now."

I chuckle, "Because I look so sexy in one of your shirts? Or is it the pencil behind my ear? Or the yoghurt that's smeared all over my mouth?"

His thumb runs over my lips, "There's no yoghurt smeared all over your mouth." his fingers pull out the pencil behind my ear before placing it on the open newspaper. "That pencil behind your ear makes you look incredibly sexy because it highlights your brilliance." I gasp as his fingers open the laced morning gown, revealing more of his black shirt that I am wearing. He pulls it off my shoulders and through my arms, slowly undressing me with his intense glance. "And my shirt..." his eyes dance down my body, "There's no one who can pull it of the way you do." His fingers move beneath the shirt, creating goosebumps of lust on my skin. He pulls the shirt over my head, revealing my naked torso. I allow his eyes to dance down my upper body before I pull his shirt off of him as well. I let my fingers dance down his torso, feeling the muscles that sculpt his body. He pushes me down on the couch until I lay flat. His hands find my laced panties before pulling it off of my legs and feet. I kiss him, allowing our tongues to dance a slow waltz as I pull his trousers and boxers down his butt, revealing his huge pulsing cock. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer to me until I feel him right in front of my entrance. He lets go of my lips before softly pressing his forehead against mine, "I love you."

I feel him slowly entering me and I dig my nails into my back, "I love you, too." I breathe out, feeling him making his way into me, but most of all my heart.

* * *

 **Please review!**

 **Xoxo**


	22. Chapter 22

I take one last look at the baking vegetables before turning the oven off. The sweet potatoes, carrots, zucchini, asparagus and tomatoes are done. The salad is already done and ready to eat. The Chateau Lafite from 1865 was a wine I found in our wine refrigerator. I didn't have the nerve to walk downstairs into our wine cellar where the choices are endless. I open the bottle and let the red liquor fill up two glasses less than half-way. Taking a sip, I turn around and look at the dining table which stands a few meters behind the empty kitchen island. I've lit candles and already set the table. I think he's going to like what I made for dinner, although I'm hoping we won't make it that far.

As on call, I hear him unlocking the door before shutting it close. I hear him getting off his shoes and feel the heat inside of me rising as my eyes get drunk in this picture of him. He's wearing a dark navy suite with a white oxford shirt and the silver tie I tied this morning. He looks absolutely breathtaking, dominant, sexy and possessive. The white golden ring around his left finger shows me that I am the only one who will ever own him - and I wear the matching statement.

"That smells delicious." his eyes start scanning me and I know he likes what he sees although he has never seen me wear a kitchen apron.

I smile at him, "We have salad as a starter, roasted vegetables as the main and then dessert…" I open the bow behind my back and let the kitchen apron drop to the floor. "Dessert is me." I say with a seductive smile on my lips, showing him what I'm wearing: a black corset with lace, stockings, a pair of thongs that are open in the front so we waste no time and his favorite Louboutin high heels. My long curls are falling loosely on my shoulders, my boobs are pushed up so much I think not even a blind man could resists me and I embody exactly what I'm feeling: pure sexuality.

I watch his eyes darken as they eyeball every single centimeter of me. Underneath his trousers I can see his growing erection and I feel my sex responding to his needs so easily. My eyes don't leave his as his orbs turn darker and darker, until there's only a glimpse of turquoise left in them. That's how I like him the most. This was my aim. As he licks his lips I know he wants me as much as I want him. He's enjoying the view as much as I am enjoying mine.

With long steps he starts making it's way over to me, his eyes not leaving my body once. As his lips crash against mine, I feel overwhelmed by his need to have me, to take me right now. He presses his body against mine, making me walk backwards until I feel the kitchen island behind me, but his pulsing cock is what I really care about. Our tongues entwine, start their beloved dance as I stripe the jacket off of his shoulders. His fingers dig into my hair, before they slowly move down my back. It feels like he's awakening a fire deep, deep inside of me. As he lets go I feel dizzy and breathless.

"You are the only thing on my menu tonight." he growls before nibbling on my lower lip. "The whole night."

Quickly, my fingers pull his oxford shirt out of his trousers as his lips start kissing my wishbone. His hands stop at my hips as I unbutton his glorious upper body as fast as I can. Suddenly, he's the only thing on my menu tonight as well. All I want is him. All I need is him. I unravel his muscular upper body and he lets the shirt fall down on the floor before picking me up and placing me on top of the kitchen island. It's cold and hard, but then again my husband's cock is harder.

Taking a step back, he eyeballs my body once more. I don't need to look him in the face to see he likes what he sees. "God you're absolutely stunning. I'll fuck you the whole night." he promises me, licking his lips. His hands start gliding from my feet up my legs. "Those shoes… and these stockings." I watch his eyes getting drunk in what he sees and I feel hornier than ever. With every touch, every breath we take, the atmosphere gets more erotic. The anticipation is unbearable. His hands spread my legs, unraveling my wet pulsing sex to him. "Oh jesus…" he breathes out, his eyes at my most sensitive, most aroused body part. I feel my breath quickening as his hands wander further north, closer to my needy sex. I want to feel him so badly. As I feel his fingers entering me with one movement, I tilt my head back as an aroused moan escapes my mouth. I feel my sex responding right away. It feels so good… I bite my lip, suppressing another moan. I want his best, hardest, pulsing body part inside of mine. I need the grand prize. Yet, I whine as his fingers leave my sex, which is already missing them. He picks up my legs and places them on the edge of the kitchen island before he softly presses down my knees. I thank myself for doing so much yoga and pilates, because I am flexible enough for that.

"If I weren't ready to fuck you when I got home, I'd for sure be right now my angel." he says to me, his eyes resting on the front opening of the thong. Clearly, this underwear was not made to be just pretty and seductive, it was made for function - exactly what we need. "You are so beautiful, so wet… so fucking mine." his eyes move up with every word until they find my eyes.

Biting my lip, I feel my clirotis pulsing even more in response to his simple yet truthful words. "Yours." I respond, my voice sounding aroused. I rise to unbutton his trousers so I could finally get the satisfaction I need, but his hands on my breasts stop me.

"I want you exactly like this." his eyes are dark, full of lust for me. His body is sweaty, he wants to take me hard. I understand him clearly and nod in agreement. I want him to take me hard as well. It's what we need. Who we are. His hands unbutton his trousers and he rips them off along with his briefs, revealing his hard pulsing penis. It's big, aroused and ready to get inside of me. God, never before have I seen it being so big, so anticipated… For a second I wonder how it could fit inside of me.

I quickly find out it does as he pushes his penis inside of me with one thrust. From the tip to his testis I feel my sex embracing him, welcoming him the most precious way. Yet a cry escapes my lungs as this was a surprise. His lips on mine shut me off before his hips move back, until I feel the tip of his penis fondling my wet sex. Another strong thrust and I feel his hips crashing against mine so hard, that I almost lose my position. He notices it and places one strong hand behind my back, supporting me. His hips flex back again before thrusting into me. It's such a sweet torture. I thought he wanted it fast, animalistic… but I didn't expect this torture. My fingernails start digging into his back, motivating him. I need more. I need harder. I need faster. Without a word he understands my demand and starts increasing his speed and I cry out moans in response as I feel my orgasm building so quickly. The corset I wear feels so tight out of the sudden. It's hard to breath, yet it feels so good. I start winding under his movements, getting closer and closer to my orgasm. I feel his hot breath on my neck as his hand on my back moves beneath my butt, changing my angel. He starts thrusting harder. "Oh God…" It's the only words I can form as I feel this new angle dragging him deeper inside of me. Fuck, how he stretches me. How good that feels… God, he's so big, so wonderful… Suddenly, I come in a loud cry that I unintentionally dig my fingernails into his back. My fingernails in his back and one more deep strong thrust into me and I hear my husband coming as well. Loudly he cries my name as his sperm fills me up. I fondle his shoulder blades as he deals with the big after shocks of his orgasm. It was unexpected. Faster than we thought. For both of us.

His eyes find mine before his lips kiss mine quickly. As he exits me, I whine. I didn't want him to leave me just yet. I let my legs drop down and I feel my heels touching the floor. He only pulled his trousers down enough to free his erection. He was as anticipated as me.

"I'm not done with you yet." there's a smirk on his face and I notice that he's already hard again - or maybe he wasn't really satisfied. What luck do I have? I watch him stepping out of his trousers, removing his socks in the same movement. Damn it, I have one irresistible husband.

I guess I mirror his smirk, because his fingers start opening the hooks on my corset. "Must've been quite tight." he says as he opens each hook, freeing my torso from the cage. "Stunning, simply stunning, Mrs. Bolton."

There's no better compliment. He throws the corset on the floor before his lips start working on my nipples. Quickly, he made them hard and stiff. I feel the heat rising inside of me so easily again. He knows how to get what he wants and he wants me for the whole night.

Moans escape my mouth as his lips do magic to my body, caressing me. The heat inside of me rises as he leaves my hard nipples, to move further south. I feel his lips kissing my waist, my navel before the stop at my pubic mound. I breath heavily as I feel his hands spreading my legs open for him. His lips kiss my pubic mound which is covered by the lace of my thong. "You smell of me and sex... you smell so good my love." He breathes against my pulsing sex before his hands on my hips push me off of the island. Confused I stare at him but he quickly turns me around. "You have such a fine, fine behind Mrs. Bolton." His hands start massaging my behind. It's cold from the marble of the kitchen island but warms quickly. His fingers travel up my spine and I feel the heat inside of me rising. Soft kisses follow. My husband definitely knows how to caress me.

"Such a breathtaking body..." he twists me around so I face him, "and such a breathtaking soul inside."

I feel my heart skipping a beat as I feel his love for me. His eyes are warm and soft. The animalistic touch in his orbs has disappeared. He wants to make love to me - while I am dressed for hot fast sex. My hand reaches out and he tilts his head to meet my touch, "I am as beautiful as you are. Inside and out." I give his compliment back, realizing for the first time that I really do feel as beautiful as him. For the first time I feel just as strong as him, just as shiny and attention worthy. I am his mirror. What he feels I feel. What aura he has I have. What he wants I want. I'm more than his wife and mother of his daughter. I am his lover and friend. I am the person he turns to when he needs advice. I am the one he can fight with against his demons.

I am his soulmate. And he is mine.

I fondle his cheek, well aware that I am reflecting his feelings. I love this man more than myself. I love his scars. His demons. His shiny side. I love every single shade of him. Unconditionally. I kiss him softly, hoping to show him how much I love him. I place my hands on his as his thumbs tuck into the waistband of my thong. Slowly he helps me strip it of. It has fulfilled it's purpose. But we need more. We need more emotions.

Embracing me, he picks my body up as if I am light as a feather. With steady feet he turns around and starts walking up the stairs. I'm impressed that he can walk with an erection this big. I kiss the nape of his neck as I let my eyes glide through the kitchen again. His clothes next to the kitchen island. The salad on the kitchen tops. The vegetables in the cold oven. The dinning table is still ready, but food is not our priority.

The kitchen disappears as we reach the first floor. Walking down the hallway we pass guest rooms, my study and Adaline's room. She's happily sleeping in her bed I notice as I glimpse into her room. She better should finally sleep through tonight. She's already been sleeping four hours without interruption but tonight I really wish she sleeps through. I need her daddy for myself. I need to be close to him. I need to feel him. My hands embrace his face and I turn his head around so I get a glimpse of his beautiful eyes. He stops walking. I feel my lungs losing air as I stare into bright blue orbs. They sparkle like the water at French Cay where we got married. They are more than beautiful. More than stunning. More than breathtaking. I kiss him, feeling warm and cozy. "I love you." I whisper with a smile on my lips.

"I know." He says, smiling back before he continues walking. He stops in front of our bed and places me down. I'm a bit disappointed. I thought we'd head straight else where. "You want me in our bed?" I ask him.

He tilts his head to the side, his eyes eating me alive. My breath quickens as I feel my desire for him taking over. Suddenly he spreads my legs with his arms before pulling me closer to him. I wrap my legs around his hips, feeling his pulsing erection oh so clearly. His fingers brush through my hair as his lips bite into my lower one. "You're right. I don't. I want you in our fucking room. I want you there in heels, stockings... exactly like this."

"Good. Then take me there." I say, smiling at him. He picks me up and I feel his heart beating against my chest as he carries me into our secret room. He opens a cupboard in our closet, before his fingers unlock the door of our room of pleasure. Stepping in, I watch his feet kicking the door closed before he lets me down. Having steady ground beneath the Louboutin heels, I look at my husband in anticipation. His stiff erection is in my focus. He walks to the right side of the room as my eyes follow his every move. He stops in front of walnut wooden hangers that have cuffs on them. He picks up a pair of padded leather cuffs with loops. Biting my lip, I watch him walking back to me.

"I'd like to use these." he holds them up.

The beige leather makes the cuff look expensive and elegant at the same time. I present him my wrists, giving him full control of me once more. Carefully, he puts first the left and then the right wrist inside the cuffs. I frown as I see the brass loops, why did he choose those? Suddenly his hand reaches above me and I hear him pulling down the gutter.

I gulp, understanding out of the sudden what he wants. How he wants me.

"Are you okay with that?" his blue orbs find mine.

I look at the same dark marble I see every time we're in this room. It's breathtaking to experience new things with my husband. "Yes." I say to him before he hooks first the right and then the left wrist to the gutter. I feel my arms stretching and am glad for the ten centimeter the Louboutins give me. Otherwise I'd be hanging in the air, which I am sure is one of my husband's fantasies as well.

He pulls the gutter a bit higher, stretching out my arms further. "I'd like to go a step further."

A step further than this? I feel my breath quickening as my eyes watch him wandering through the room once more. He walks behind me and I hear him opening another cupboard. Anticipation runs through my veins as I hear his footsteps coming back to me. Having a shallow breath, I watch him walking around me. In his hands he's holding a silver eye mask. He wants to blind me.

I look into his eyes, "I trust you." I say to him before he places the eye mask on my eyes. With a black vision, I feel my other instincts being more intense. I hear his footsteps walking behind me and I feel the warmth of his body against mine. I bite my lip as I feel his breath in the nape of my neck. "You look absolutely breathtaking..." his teeth bite into my right earlobe. I feel my sex echoing his bite, demanding more so soon already. I hear him walking around me again and I know he's admiring the view: his wife hanging in the air, only in stockings and Louboutins. My pulse rises as I feel the warmth of his body against mine. He kisses me harshly, biting into my lower lip. A moan escapes my lungs as he lets go of my lips. My skin is prickling as I feel his breath on the nape of my neck wandering south. His moist breath coats in my nipples before I feel him going further down. His fingertips start fondling my waist and hips before his warm palms widen my legs. My hips open as the Louboutins provide me a steady position. Breathing heavily, I feel my nerves dancing as his breath moves further south.

"Troy, please..." I beg him and cry out as I feel his teeth biting softly into my sex. Carefully, his mouth starts kissing, biting and sucking. My legs start shaking as my upper body starts winding under the magic that my husband's performing. Deep, pleasured filled moans escape the darkest places of my lungs as I feel the orgasm building so quickly. His hands on my butt hold my hips steady and I pull on the cuffs as my nerves start going crazy again. He's driving me insane... he's making me go absolutely nuts... I bite my lip as he starts biting and sucking harder. My muscles start tightening and I know I am close to coming, bursting from my husband's treatment once more. Suddenly, he stops. I cry out in frustration as I feel his lips kissing my mons, belly button, wishbone, neck and right cheek. My heart beats so fast that I think it will burst any second.

"You have no idea what wishes you make come true..." his voice is a hot whisper in my left ear. I bite my lip as I hear him moving again. I try to turn my head around as I hear his steps behind me. What's next? My skin prickles as I feel both of his hands on my hips, holding them tight. I cry out in pleasure and surprise as I feel him thrusting into me from behind, fulfilling me with one movement. My arms stretch out a little as my back hollows, yet my feet are steady thanks to his grip. I feel him stretching me, pulsing in my sex. His strong torso is glued to mine as his left arm wraps around my rips, pulling me closer to him. "Oh you're enjoying this just as much..." his voice is hoarse and I know mine would be too if I could say something right now. His left palm is on my right breast and I know he can feel my fast heartbeat. He flexes his hips until I feel the tip of his penis hovering at the entrance of my sex. I bite my lip as he thrusts into me again, harder this time. His grip around my upper body, his right hand on my mons, hold me tight as he fucks me harder than before. He flexes his hips again before thrusting into me. I cry out, feeling waves of pleasure slowly building inside of me. He speeds up, going not only faster but harder with every single thrust until I feel my toes flexing in the black heels with the famous red sole. I feel his head on my right shoulder, his hot breath making my nerves go crazy once more. He flexes his hips and I know I am close to coming. "Come for me, my angel." his voice is a whisper, but his thrust is all the more harder, faster... and I burst into the most beautiful orgasm yet. Pleasure starts rushing through my veins as the pulse of my heartbeat fills my ears. I feel him exiting me as my nerves are still trying to recover from the pleasure he has brought me. His lips kiss the nape of my neck, "Well done, my love." his voice is a whisper before I hear him walking around me. Suddenly, his hands pick my legs up before I feel him thrusting into me again. Fuck, he is not done with me yet... I realize that this orgasm was for me and not for him as his hands hold tight on my butt. I feel dizzy as my breath quickens again. He starts thrusting into me, using me as his entrance to paradise. I cry out in pleasure as I feel the lace stockings glued to his butt. I can feel how his hips, his butt and his upper legs are working, serving both him and me pleasure. Again and again he thrusts into me and I feel the sweat rolling down my body as cries of pleasure fills the room. God, I am glad he made sure the walls are soundproof. No one should hear what the hell he is doing to me... what pleasure he is able to give me.

I start winding under his movement and the speed he moves with. My toes start flexing in the Louboutins and I cry out his name as I come longer this time. I feel my body releasing endorphins as he pumps into me once more before he comes in a loud growl. His fingers dig into my butt as I feel his erection releasing the orgasm he's feeling. I feel his lips kissing my stomach before I hear him opening the hooks of the loops from the cuffs. My left and then my right arm falls down on the shoulder of my husband and I wrap my arms around his neck. Out of the sudden I feel tired and satisfied. With his thumb, he frees my eyes from the silk eye mask. "Hey..." he greets me. His orbs have a turquoise marble in them that I've never seen before but I am determined to see it again. I realize that this is exactly what my husband needs to be fully himself. He is glowing with pride, love and satisfaction - exactly like me.

"We may take it as far as you want." I say into his eyes, feeling loved, cherished and throughly fucked.

His lips form a smile before he kisses me quickly, "I enjoyed it not any less."

I return his smile, "Good, because I want you to repeat that as many times as you want."

He kisses me again before he carries me to the bed. Placing me on it, he starts opening the leather cuffs around my wrists.

"I bet you're thinking these things were definitely worth the investment." I say, watching him opening the leather cuffs around my right wrist. There are no pressure marks... They didn't hurt a bit.

He chuckles, "They were definitely worth the investment, Mrs. Bolton." he says as he frees my left wrist. I move them around, feeling a slight stiffness. "All good?"

I look up into his eyes, "Perfect."

"Good." he says before hanging them back on the hooks. I frown as I suddenly notice the many scratches on the back of his body.

"Oh my god!" I breathe out in shock.

He turns around half-way, "What?"

"Your back... I've destroyed it." I look at my nails, wanting to cut them off right now.

He chuckles before he walks back to me, "You didn't destroy my back. I like it."

I frown, "You do?"

"Yes. You've marked your territory." he smirks at me as he reaches me.

I let my fingers dance up his arms as he fondles my back, "You're definitely my territory."

"Your's only." he whispers into my ear before he bends down, carefully striping down my stockings. First the left and then the right. I let the Louboutins glide off of my feet and he removes the stockings from my feet. I hop off the bed and watch his head rising. I am roughly fifteen centimeters smaller than him. He is my protection shield. He is my lover. He is my everything. He takes a step back and I allow him to get lost in my looks before I kiss him softly. With his hands on my hips he pulls me closer. Closer to his erection, signalizing that this night is far from being over. He pulls me closer to his heart that pulses for me.

* * *

 **A new chapter. :) Please review!**

 **Xoxo**


	23. Chapter 23

Baby Bolton on the road!

Gabriella Bolton, Troy Bolton's wife, has been spotted walking around with a pram in London today. The beauty that has Troy wrapped around her right ring finger made her way into her recording studio Unfaithful records. It's been the first time she visited in forever! The last time we spotted her was late last year. Ever since the arrival of their baby both Boltons have been quite absent from the media: No red carpets and no interviews. Except the one with Forbes Magazine to honor their businesses. Ever since this interview, the interest in Troy, but more so in Gabriella has grown immensely. Playing the rare card only fires up the interest of the media more. We all want to know what they do, who they work with, how their relationship is... and how life with a baby fits into all of this. The CEO seemed to do a quick check-up as she was there for only two hours. Keeping her head low to hide from our lenses, she then disappeared in Kensington Park. Sadly, we didn't get a glimpse of her baby - who rumor has it, is not a boy after all. The pram had a neutral beige color, so that isn't an indicator of any sort. But don't worry, we'll keep our eyes wide open.

One way or another, we will find out.

* * *

I'm summing a melody as I drain the whole wheat pasta and put it into the tomato sauce. Today was a very creative day. I even composed some notes, maybe a song even. It felt good. I am getting into my grove again, as Ryan would say. Adaline giggled the whole time as I played some happy music on the piano to entertain her. But she was also silent and mesmerized when I played some ballades. She's definitely our daughter. Keeping an eye on the bubbling pasta, I get out the plates from one of the kitchen counters. I haven't lit candles or done anything special. Eating at the kitchen island is going to be fine. As long as we have a fine Chardonnay we're good. As I get out the forks, I hear the door opening and shutting. Placing them on the plates, I see my husband walking in. He's wearing his usual working attire: a three piece dark navy suit.

"Perfect timing!" I say grinning, "Adaline is sleeping upstairs. She's fed and I changed her diaper. She should be sleeping for at least five hours. Perhaps even the night through. Dinner is almost ready. I made pasta, which just needs a few more minutes to soak up the sauce. And now I feel like a desperate housewife saying this." I joke.

Without a word he walks over to the cooker, turning it off.

"Why did you-" his lips find mine, kissing me eagerly and I know that dinner is not his main priority right now. As wrap my arms around my husband, I allow myself to get lost in his kisses. There's something highly addictive in them. He tastes of blueberries and bourbon, I notice as our tongues start dancing. With his hands on my hips, I follow wherever he is leading me to. Until I feel a hard surface hitting my hip from the back and I know that's the kitchen island. Within one movement, he lifts my body, placing it on the kitchen island. As his eyes stare into mine, I get to see this rare dark blue color I love so much. It's the kind that signalizes me this is not going to be soft and loving, it will be rough, dirty and enjoyable. His lips start kissing my neck and I feel the heat inside of me rising. As my hands start unbuttoning his white oxford shirt, he starts doing the same with my blouse. I bite my lip as I see his fine toned torso and a moan escapes me as I feel his hands brushing the contours of my body before his fingers free my breasts from the cups of my bra, pushing them up. Being roughly two cups larger than before Adaline was born, I am yet as sensitive. His teeth start nibbling on my nipples, creating an echo in my sex. Spreading my legs, I feel my sleek dark grey Armani skirt pushing up before I wrap my lean legs around the waist of my husband. Pulling him closer to me, moans escape my mouth, voicing my state of mind so easily. His hands pull the blouse out of my skirt, in which it was tucked in before helping me out of it. His lips make it's way further south, creating tiny fireworks in my body.

"Troy…" I breathe out his name, helplessly and aroused. My hands start opening his trousers, pulling them down with his briefs in one movement. There's the charming part of his body, I've been aching for so long. I lick my lips before his fingers on my chin move my vision up to his eyes. The dark blue color hasn't changed a bit. I feel his hands pushing the Armani skirt up to my hips before they find my panties. It might be a tiny piece of lace that's covering my sex but out of the sudden it feels gigantic. I want him. I need him. Now. Quickly, the panties has been pushed down my legs, not tangling with my Louboutin heels at all as he stripes them off. His lips find mine again, bitting on my lower lip.

"You know how much I love seeing you in skirts and heels, Mrs. Bolton…" his dark erotic voice fills my ears as his lips kiss it's way down to my breasts again. I am all flames as I feel his hands brushing my legs, spreading them open. Slowly, his hands move north and I can feel my nerves reacting to every single touch.

"Lay down." he orders, his voice strict and yet erotic.

I do as he says, feeling the cold marble underneath my back. I can see his eyes on me, memorizing every single inch of my body. I wish I'd have the strength to say something cocky right now, but all I can do is stare at him starring at me.

"Look at you… almost naked… and mine." he licks his lips before he picks up my legs, placing them on the edge of the island. Spreading my legs wider then before, I thank god for doing so much yoga in the last weeks. It helps me with the flexibility I need now so much. For me. For him. For us.

His hands start brushing my legs once more, before them stop in front of my sex.

Biting my lip, I watch him bending over until his chestnut brown colored head nearly disappears behind my skirt. I expect to feel his lips, tongue or teeth. Eagerly, I wait for any touch, but all I feel is his breath.

"Ah!" I breathe out as I feel him blowing on my clitoris. It feels cold and warm, arousing and exceptional at the same time. My sex responds by pulsing hard. My hands find the edges of the kitchen island and I wrap my fingers round it. He's driving me crazy. Moans escape my mouth as he repeats blowing on my clitoris. It feels so good… yet it's not enough. I bite my lip, expecting him to blow once more. But to my surprise, I feel his fingers entering my wet pulsing sex.

"Oh you're so ready for me…" his words are only a whisper to me as I hear my pulse loud and clearly. "So ready…" He withdraws his fingers, before his other hand pulls my body closer to him, stoping at the edge of the kitchen island. I raise my body, until I feel his torso against mine. I feel his fingertips on my back, striking it, before they stop at my butt. He squeezes my butt and my hands grab his shoulders as his lips find mine again. I wrap my legs around his waist again, I need him so badly. Passionately, he kisses me, his teeth biting softly on my lower lip. He smells so wonderful. I let go as I feel him entering me in one hard thrust. Our heavy breaths are coating the atmosphere in the erotic state we're in.

"Fuck…" he is just as aroused as me. Steadily, he starts moving, our sweaty bodies clashing against each other. "You feel so good… so tight… so warm." his teeth bite on my lower lip again. "You're so fucking perfect my love." he whispers to me, but all I feel is my building orgasm.

"Faster…" my voice is hoarse, my fingers digging into his back to motivate my husband. He speeds up and I respond with moans as I feel the orgasm nearly bursting inside of me. It's been too long of a build-up. It's been too long of… I let out a cry as I burst into the highly awaited orgasm. I see stars, feel paradise and hear angel voices as the blood rushes through me. That's been one hell of an orgasm. As I still feel him pumping into me, I raise my hips to meet his thrusts in a new angle. Seconds later I hear him coming in a loud growl, my name escaping his lips as the orgasm rushes through him. He comes long and loud and I know that this was something special for him as well. My fingers squeeze his butt before he opens his eyes. The dark blue color has faded into a lighter version, yet I know what that means.

"You're not done with me…" I say, kissing him softly. He may come once but that's definitely not been the last time for tonight.

He fondles my cheek, placing a piece of hair behind my ear. "You are perfection." he says into my eyes.

I kiss him lightly as I unwrap my legs from his waist, "You are perfection, too." I reply to his compliment.

"I need to fuck you harder." he says to me, holding nothing of his thoughts away from me.

I bite my lip as I feel his erection still filling me up. He may have come, but this wasn't enough release for the love of my life. "I know…" I brush through his hair. "I am almost naked and I am your's." I say to him my eyes seeking for affirmation. As I feel him exiting me, I feel confusion making it's way on my face. Why is he leaving me? I can clearly see his erection as he takes a step away from me, leaving my legs hanging in the air. As he offers me his hand to hop off the island, I take it. Yet the confusion has not stopped.

"I need you out of that skirt…" he says as his fingers open the zipper on the back of my skirt. Within a second, the skirt falls down to the floor revealing my naked sex. "That's better." he says, his eyes looking down at me. "A lot better." he lips find mine again and I feel my body responding to his touch, his lips so easily like I didn't just have my orgasm. My nipples are still stiff I notice as his lips leave mine.

"And now…now, we have to free your wonderful breasts as well." he says, taking first the left and then the right strap off my shoulders. His hand opens the hooks in the back with ease before the lace Stella McCartney bra falls to the floor, right next to my skirt. "That's how I love you the most." he says to me, his hands massaging my free breasts. "Those firm, full breasts…" I close my eyes, biting my lip as arousal starts rushing through my veins again. "That feels good, doesn't it?"

I respond with a moan, being too aroused to let my mouth from any words. He does it so easily. A soft cry escapes my mouth as I feel his teeth biting on my nipple again. It's such a sweet, wonderful feeling he's giving me. He sucks and bites first one and then the other nipple, until they are stiff and I am just as aroused as I was before the first orgasm. As I feel my sex pulsing and my wetness between my legs, I know there's not a lot longer until he makes me come again before he had any chance to himself. As if he knew, he stops caressing my breasts and starts kissing it's way down my body. It's so hard to stand on my heels as his lips makes it's way further south, down my rips, around my navel, stopping at my sex. I breathe heavily, anticipation rushing through my veins. With his hands, he spreads my legs further apart and I bite my lip as I feel his breath against my wet pulsing sex. Another cry escapes my mouth as I feel his lips on my sex, kissing me at my most aroused spot. "Troy…" I breathe out as his lips, his tongue starts dancing. I feel my legs shaking as his teeth bite gently on my clitoris, sending me nearly off to paradise. I cry out again, my hands on his shoulder stoping him from any more tease. I need him. Again.

"You taste so good, my love…" he whispers as he rises up to me again. He licks his lips before his hands on my hips twists me around. He wants to take me from behind. Like he rarely does. I am facing the kitchen island again, which lucky is completely empty. The marble is still a bit warm from my body, I notice as I place my upper body on the island. I breathe heavily as I spread my legs, still aware of the Louboutins I am still wearing. Troy Bolton loves heels. It's something I learned quickly and I made it my biggest advantage when it come to sex with him. It's just so much better.

His fingers free my neck from my hair, pushing it all to one side. His lips softly kiss my neck before his hands strike down my back, stopping at my butt. Anticipated, I wait for his next move, my body ready to welcome him again. Suddenly, I feel his hand massaging my butt again, and I tilt my head back. "Troy, please…" I beg him. I need him inside of me so badly, I'd do anything.

"You are so beautiful, my lovely, lovely wife…" he whispers to me as his hand suddenly hits my butt. I cry out in surprise. There's a sharp sensation rushing through my veins and to my surprise, I feel my sex reasoning to it with a stronger pulse. So that's what it feels like when pain becomes pleasure.

"Please…" I beg him once more as I feel his fingers circling around my aroused sex. Hastily, they enter me and I moan, clench in surprise. It feels so good to have his fingers in me. They move quickly, massaging me before leaving out of the sudden. But I have no time to feel empty as I suddenly feel his big erection entering me, filling me up completely. This time, he doesn't take it slow. Harshly, he starts pumping into me and I feel my body meeting his thrusts. I am thankful for the kitchen island to be there, it helps with the balance. His heavy breathing starts filling my ears as he speeds up, growling as his hands grab my hips. Helping me raise my hips, I grab the edge of the kitchen island once more. Now meeting his thrusts half-way it doesn't take me long to come in one loud big orgasm. I cry out his name as my body shakes from the after shocks. My feet in the heels are shaking as well, but I don't loose my steady ground. He continues pumping into me a few more times and I bite my lip as I feel him moving. It feels good, unusual, wonderful and beautiful at the same time. It's just so… Suddenly, I feel him coming inside of me so unexpected that I cry out with him. His warm sperm fills me up as he comes longer and definitely stronger than before. His hands release it's grip from my hips as he gains back his strength. Kissing my neck, I feel him exiting me. I feel empty and lonely right away. This was too quick for me. I need more. I want more. This can't be over just yet. His hands on my shoulder blades turn me around and I face bright blue orbs. There's a seductive grin on his lips as I feel the sweat dripping down my body along with his sperm. I feel fine, yet I do not feel great.

"Thank you for fucking me hard." I say into his eyes, kissing him softly. I needed this as badly as he did.

His fingers brush through my hair, his eyes locking deep with mine. "You need more." he breaths into my eyes, clearing seeing that I want more from him. What is also clear is that dinner is going to be cold when we're done.

I nod, "It's not just you who is an addict." I understand him. I gave him exactly what he needed. It's just… now, I want more as well.

It's like he's reading my mind. His eyes look so understanding, so true… so wonderful. He offers me his hand "Come."

I take it, unsure where he leads me to next. I follow him into the living room, leaving our clothes in the kitchen. The sun has set hours ago, making room for the moon and sparkling stars.

"Lay down on your back and place a pillow underneath that lovely ass of your's." he orders with a grin on his lip.

Returning his grin I do as he says and lay down on the couch before placing a pillow under my butt to lift it slightly. I watch my naked husband walking over to me, his eyes sparkling. God, how much I love this man. This godly man…

He sits down at my feet, "Open your legs." he orders again and I do as he says, but that's not enough for him, I notice as his hands spread my legs even wider. "That's how I like it. Now, close your eyes."

I bite my lip as I feel his fingers dancing up and down my legs, slowly moving north. I feel my body responding to his touch so easily as I start feeling hot again.

"You have such beautiful, beautiful legs…" his soft voice reaches my ears. Suddenly, I feel his lips kissing it's way up my legs. Slowly, each kiss sends aftershocks in my body. It feels so incredibly good. Quickly, my breath becomes shallow as his lips kiss around my pulsing sex. I feel the sweat trying to cool my body as all my blood starts concentrating in my pulsing sex once more. His lips start kissing my navel and suddenly I feel his hands massaging my breasts again. Moans start escaping my mouth as I feel the orgasm building inside of me again. Steadily, his lips caress my body before they stop at my sex. His shallow breath is all I feel down there for a moment before his tongue touches my clitoris. I cry out in surprise and arousal, feeling at the edge of exploding. It's so easy for him to make me come, yet I love him for that. His tongue starts dancing, caressing me so wonderfully that now it's only a matter of seconds. Suddenly, I feel his fingers rubbing my clirotis, quickly and harshly. I moan in response, feeling my upper body lifting. I bite my lip as the orgasm builds and builds. "Come, come for me my angel…" he whispers and I wind from left to right. I feel so close, yet it's not enough for me. Suddenly, I feel this wonderful air blowing and I burst, seeing a rainbow of lights as the orgasms rushes through my body. I hardly notice his fingers entering me as I feel my nerves clenching, sending after shocks. "Yes, that's what you wanted, wasn't it?" it's a rhetoric question from him, but I wish I were able to scream out a hell yes or give him some kind of confirmation. I feel his fingers leaving my sex before they dance up my body, which is still a bit shaky.

"Open your eyes." he says to me and I slowly open my eyes, staring into the most beautiful bright blue orbs I have ever seen.

I lick my lips before I lift myself and kiss him softly to thank him. It was exactly what I wanted and needed. He just knows me inside out.

"I'm glad you liked it." his words are warm, his eyes are soft. He's satisfied and he loves seeing me being satisfied as well.

I brush through his hair, allowing myself to get drunk in his looks. My wonderful, wonderful husband… "If you plan to do this every time you come home after work now, then I think I should start cooking a bit later."

He chuckles, before he buries himself in the nape of my neck. "I had quite a stressful day and when I saw you standing in the kitchen… Wearing that skirt… and those heels." his eyes rest on my black Louboutins.

I kick them off, "I know exactly what high heels do to your temper, Troy Bolton."

He raises an eyebrow at me, "You were planning to seduce me?"

"I wanted to have sex for dessert, though. Not as an appetizer." I say, biting my lip.

His thumb releases my lip from my teeth, his eyes focused on that lip. "I'm still up for dessert as long as I can have that lip and your mouth."

I smile, understanding the clear message behind it. A blow-job for dessert. "Behave yourself and you'll get what you want."

"When did I ever not behave?" he asks me as I place my legs on his thighs.

"Well you already have one strike for fucking me before dinner. And there's one for fucking me on the kitchen island twice."

"What about the couch?" he asks me, his hands dancing around my navel.

I shrug, "That was your free-pass. One more strike and you're going to have a problem, Mr. Bolton."

His fingers travel up to my chin, his eyes focusing me once more. "Too bad, I am all for trouble, Mrs. Bolton."

I bite my lip as I feel the heat rising inside of me again. "Dinner." I breathe out, tucking in my legs. "We have to eat dinner." I say again before rising from the couch. _Or else I'm going to be all over him again._ I add in silence.

I hear him sighing before he rises from the couch again, following me back into the kitchen. I stop as I feel his hand on my wrist. Pulling me back, I feel the glass window behind my back out of the sudden before his lips find mine. He kisses me softly, yet passionately. His grip releases my wrist and I wrap my arms around the neck of my husband, getting lost in his kisses once more.

"Dinner, Mr. Bolton." I remind him, letting go.

"I love to cherish you, Mrs. Bolton." his eyes are true, his lips faithful.

I brush through his hair, "I love cherishing you as well, Mr. Bolton. But I strongly think we should eat something before we take this any further. You must be hungry after such a long day and I know I am too."

He nods, taking a step back. "Just know, I am not done with you yet."

I cock my head to the side, "What makes you think I am anywhere near being done with you? This was just the beginning."

There's a grin playing around the lips of my husband and I know we think of the same: what did I do to deserve you?

* * *

I draw circles on the bare chest of my husband. We're tangled up in each other, laying on a blanket in front of the fireplace. The warmth from the fire is coating me in and my husband's fingers are playing with one of my curls. It's far after midnight, somewhere between three and four in the morning. Adaline's still fast sleep. Perhaps tonight will be the first night she's going to sleep through. The signs are good. I missed these moments so much... just being with him is magical. Dinner was good but dessert... oh boy the dessert was breathtaking. Every. Single. Time.

"How was your day?" He asks me, breaking her comfortable silence around us.

"I was at Unfaithful records today. I showed Adaline where I usually work." I missed it so much. I didn't realize it until I took a step into my firm.

"I bet they were all in awe of her."

"They couldn't keep their hands off of her. She's like a magnet." Just like her Daddy.

He smiles at me, "Any issues?"

"Surprisingly not. I talked the numbers through with Kelsi and we made sure everything runs smoothly. It was more of a check-up rather than a day of work. I stayed only for a few hours."

"You weren't in one of the studios?"

I shake my head, "No, I talked to Kelsi and went through important letters. She gave me some demos that I've listened to."

"Anything good?"

I shrug, "They are all good, but I want more. I want fantastic."

He brushes through my hair, "You have high expectations."

"If I don't have them no one will."

"Are you going to do one of the open castings you did with Manhattan records?"

"I don't know yet. I mean, we have another concert of Aching Hearts coming in a few weeks. I don't want to work too much. I don't want to miss any milestones in Adaline's life."

"I understand..." He feels the same way. He's just as torn between work and our family.

"But I was creative later in the day." I say with a smile on my lips. "To the point I think this song's going to turn into something I might allow to be recorded by an artist."

"Really?" He asks me with a smile on his lips and I know he missed these moments with me as well.

"Yes. I sat down at the piano and just played... it was magical. It felt like I never stopped. Even Adaline seemed mesmerized. She stared at the piano, thinking this must be magic."

He reflects my smile, "Play it for me."

I bite my lip, "It's not a pretty song."

He releases my lip from my teeth, "Your songs are not meant to be pretty. They are meant to make people feel." He quotes me. "So, make me feel anything you want."

"Okay..." I say before rising from the floor. He's no longer afraid of my songs and the emotions I can make him feel. I used to be afraid to show them to him. I used to think I'll wrack him - to be fair, I managed to do that a few times. But he recovered. He became even stronger. Our relationship grew. I wrap the blanket around my naked body before I sit down on the piano bench. Stretching my arms I take one big breath before I let my fingers touch the keynotes.

 _I've playing with my demons_

 _Making troubles for yourself_

 _And these days are far from over_

 _You know I can't help myself_

 _I love coming for you baby_

 _And it's killing me inside_

 _I've been dying for you baby_

 _Almost every single night_

 _Forget the words I'm saying_

 _I know that I've been cruel_

 _I pray for peace_

 _Tell me why don't you_

 _Oh I pray_

 _I know that I've been cruel_

 _Oh I pray_

 _I know that what I do_

 _I've been losing my religion_

 _Making trouble for myself_

 _And these nights are getting longer_

 _You know I just need your help_

 _I keep running for you baby_

 _And it's eating me alive_

 _I'll be dying for you baby_

 _'Till you'll bring me back to life_

"I like it." His voice is deep as he raises from the floor and walks over to me. "I like it a lot."

I twist my upper body so I can look at him, "I thought maybe with a deep bass, a heavy beat, an echo... It would turn out quite nicely, I think. A duet with a female and male singer… a deep, sexy male voice." I voice my thoughts. My husband's voice would fit perfectly to this song.

"It's already very good." He has a smile on his face as he sits down next to me.

"Really?" There's a shy smirk on my lips. So far, the songs I worked on were all written before Adaline's birth. They were all old. These are the first notes I composed since Adaline's birth and it could be crap. It could be worth nothing.

His fingers brush through my hair and I feel my heart skipping a beat. He likes it. He likes it a lot. He leans in to kiss me and I feel fireworks exploding inside of me when our lips finally meet. He doesn't simply like it. He loves it. The song. This moment. Me. Our family. I return his kiss, digging my fingers into his silky chestnut coloured hair. Our tongues start dancing and I feel the heat inside of me rising. I feel his hands slowly gliding down my back. It gives me chills and makes me hot at the same time. His hands start unwrapping my body from the blanket as I feel his teeth softly biting on my lower lip. Letting go from my husband's lips, I rise from the bench before sitting down on his lap. I feel his erection pressing against my stomach as I wrap my legs around him, kissing him heavily. He tastes so good... of blueberries... of love... of us. He lets go of my lips before they start kissing my neck. I moan as I feel fireworks exploding to every touch. His hands glide up my back as his lips kiss my wishbone. I lean back, feeling the keyboards brushing my lower back. "You are remarkable..." his voice is hoarse and I feel a moan escaping my lips as his teeth find my nipples. Jesus, he knows how to make me go crazy... his hands stop at my butt before they squeeze it as if he wanted me to know I am his. I am yours, every single inch of mine is yours. Always.

I rise a little before I position myself correctly, letting his precious part stretch my insides. My mouth forms an O as I am once more surprised he fits. His lips catch my silent moan, his tongue dancing with mine. We are the perfect fit. His fingers brush through my hair, freeing my breasts from the cover. My lips leave his and his crystal blue eyes stare into mine. I allow myself to get lost in his glance. There's a certainty in his eyes. A certainty that he breathes for me only. I fondle his cheek with a smile on my lips. I am breathing for him, too.

Always.

Suddenly, he rises from the piano bench, carrying me with him.

"What are you doing?" I ask him, chuckling. I didn't expect him to move.

He shuts the behind cover of the black piano before placing me on top. It's just the right height for him to stand. I feel the cold wood beneath me and the heat from his body in front of me. God, what a mixture... "Oh I wanted to fuck you on this piano since I saw you with it for the first time..." he mumbles.

I reflect his dirty grin. He's referring to Manhattan. To our fourth date. It was the first time I saw the Bechstein standing in his pompous apartment on the Upper East Side. It was the first time I played on it. It was the first night we had sex. It seemed so long ago... "Seems like I've been able to fulfil your wishes lately, Mr. Bolton." I say, feeling his erection growing inside of me. God, how good this stretch feels... I bite my lip, suppressing a moan. This is beautiful, yet it's not enough for both of us.

He fondles my cheek,"You are the fulfillment of the biggest wish I never knew I had. My only wish." His eyes are full of truth, full of love. I brush through his silky hair before I place a soft kiss on his lips. He is my only wish as well. Always and forever.

I lay down on the piano, hearing a sharp tone escaping the lips of my husband. I can feel every muscle of mine reacting to this new sweet angle. "I'm all yours, Mr. Bolton."

"Oh yes you are, Mrs. Bolton." His voice is deep and hoarse. His hands brush up my body and I can feel my body reacting to every touch. It feels so good. So good... there's a sharp whistle coming out of my husband's mouth as his hands grab my wrists before I feel his hips flexing. A deep erotic cry escapes my lips as I feel him moving. Slowly, he starts moving, enjoying every second of it. Moans of lust escape my lungs as we make slow, prickly love until we both explode in orgasms so strong, so big we never expected.

Yet I frown as I realise that I've become what I feared most: a wife that waits for her husband to come home. A wife that stays home with the baby. A wife that waits... a desperate housewife.

* * *

 **The last and finale chapter of Waves of Emotions. It's been a long journey for Gabriella and Troy.**

 **But don't be sad, there will be another part of this series. Coming to you very soon! ;) I don't have a title yet, but I do have a storyline and perhaps over 150 pages written down already. :D Any suggestions?**

 **As always - and for the last time - please review!**

 **Xoxo**


	24. Author's Note

Thank you all for reviewing Waves Of Emotions. Please note that the series has continued in Incomplete and A Million Times More. Also there's the story of Adaline Bolton out, called My Shadow. It means so much to me that you enjoy reading my stories as much as I enjoy writing them.

Please be so kind to read, follow, favourite and review any story and chapter.

In gratitude,

Nicole


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